A Charmed World
by HarryPotter21
Summary: The final chapter of the A Charmed Series: Anakin and Lucifer have returned. The battle for the world and the universe has begun. Will the Halliwells be up to the job of defeating the greatest of all evils?
1. Chapter 1

AN: And so begins the end of our wonderful adventure together.

 _Italics - past/memory_

I hope you like it.

* * *

WITH BROKEN WINGS

Summer in the city was always an exciting time. The city filled with vacationers and tourists from around the world. It made disappearing in a crowd a lot easier when everyone was a stranger. Anakin used the anonymity provided by a crowd to his advantage over the summer, scouting out the city and the destruction wrought upon it. Today, fall had descended on the city. Long gone were the crowds of sightseers chased away by life and fear. He always preferred the fall. The subtle changes in the weather, the settling back into everyday routines. It had been too long since he had merely sat in a corner of a coffee shop and enjoyed people watching.

He surveyed the small gathering of regulars near the entrance to the café. Businessmen, lawyers, and old college friends gathered together to debrief the week's events both mundane and supernatural. A woman with long dirty blonde hair sat by the window with a laptop up and a diagram of some sort pulled up on the screen. She was muttering herself, a college student studying for an exam.

His target sat to her right. He wore a generic black business suit. The man in his late forties or early fifties and of Middle Eastern descent was completely bald and had distinct brown searching eyes. He appeared to be casually reading the newspaper, but Anakin knew better. The man had not turned the page in almost half an hour. He was waiting for someone. The final clue to his true nature was the bronze jackal-headed pin. Anakin had seen other people wearing similar jewelry; people he knew to be demons.

A new customer entered the shop. Both Anakin and the man glanced over at the entrance. A short woman stood in the doorway. In an analytical manner Anakin surmised she would be concerned very attractive and dressed to accentuate her physical allure. Her black leather pants were skin tight, and her maroon riding jacket left very little to the imagination. She had her thick black hair tied tightly in a bun and wore minimal makeup. Like the man, she too was not a generic white American, but her features suggested a more exotic parentage, perhaps Indian or Sri Lankan. She did not wear a jackal broach but had on a silver necklace with a different animal head. Anakin could not decide if it was a cat or a weasel.

He followed her progress to the counter. She placed her order and took a seat near him, pulling out her phone and calling up a news report on its hologram display. She smiled warmly at him, and he returned his attention to the book he was reading. His hot tea stood forgotten on the table. A waitress came over and paused at his table.

"Do you need a—wow, your eyes!" The younger waitress gawked at him.

Anakin smirked. Since his rebirth, his eyes had taken on a life of their own. Lucien had always said his eyes were one of his most attractive features. He wondered what the elemental would have thought of his new ones. The one eye was still the bright sparkling blue he had inherited from his father, at least most days. The other eye, the right eye, the one closest to Lucifer and Aeglaeca when he had destroyed them, preferred to change colors on a nearly hourly basis. Thankfully the colors chosen were normally human enough that he could pass off the eccentricity as a genetic abnormality. The last time he had seen himself in a reflection the eye had been a cold emerald.

"I'm fine, thank you," he said graciously.

The waitress blinked a few times. "Right, sorry. Sorry, it's just your eyes. They're different colors!"

Anakin shrugged. "I was born with them."

"Of course, silly me. I've just always had this fantasy…"

The barista at the counter spoke up, saving both the waitress and Anakin any embarrassment. "Martha! The milks need refilling."

Martha blushed. "Sorry, I best go."

Anakin bowed his head and returned to his book, turning the page.

"Do you get that often?" asked the woman.

Anakin blinked and looked up.

The woman's chocolate-colored eyes widened. "I can certainly see why they caught the young girl by surprise. They are very alluring."

The man in the suit stood up. Anakin cursed his luck. "So I've been told. If you'll excuse me, I've got a movie to catch."

The woman pouted. "But we've not been introduced. I'm Indira."

She extended a dainty hand. Anakin shook her hand, watching from the corner of his eyes as the man exited the café. "Anakin."

Indira slipped off her seat and settled into the chair across from Anakin. "Anakin? That is a most unusual name. It does have a lot of connotations behind it."

"No more so than Indira," returned Anakin. The man had rounded the street corner. He had lost him once again.

Indira laughed, pulling his attention back to the conversation. "So what is a handsome fellow such as yourself doing all alone on this glorious Saturday afternoon?"

Anakin eyed the woman before him more critically. He tried to scan her thoughts briefly and was met with resistance. The resistance was not substantial just to the point of someone being naturally immune to telepathy or other mind magics. Nevertheless, his family's history made him question any sort of coincidence. He placed the book down on the table to free his hands.

"Like I said I'm late to see a movie with a friend. We were supposed to meet up earlier, but he got held back at the checkpoint on the bridge," said Anakin smoothly.

Indira nodded her head in understanding. "Those checkpoints are a horrible bother. The military say they are necessary for public safety, but honestly if a witch wanted to burn down the city no grunt with a handgun is going to stop him or her. They should focus their effort to rounding up the witches already in the city."

Anakin nodded his head absently. The military government that had taken over the city following the assassination of the mayor and a number of other top politicians the day of his resurrection set up the checkpoints. The brutal authoritarian tactics of the new government were accepted by a public who lived in view of a constant reminder of exactly what hey were fighting against. A dense layer of clouds had surrounded Alcatraz Island a week after his resurrection. None of the members of the four military teams sent in to investigate the island were heard from again.

Anakin suspected the uses the islands was being put to following its brutal takeover. The island sat on a convergence of ley lines only duplicated in a number of other areas of the world. While none of the ley lines were of ancient significance, they were not average in size or power either. It was his opinion that Alcatraz had become Lucifer's base of operations for his nefarious schemes. The individual he had been following was one of Lucifer's known accomplices. He had hoped to be able to track the man to the island and discover the safest route through the maelstrom surrounding the island. His desperation to get onto the island was fueled by his desire to finally free his nephews from the clutches of his arch nemesis.

A siren sounded, announcing another set of attacks to subdue the various rebellions overrunning the city. He would find it hilarious if the casualties from those attacks were not so great. Announcing the attacks was meant to give citizens time to get into shelters. The problem was the announcements also served as warnings for the targets of those attacks. Half the city lay in ruins, and the rebellion only grew in number. Saving innocents was not part of his agenda today. He rose from his seat and checked his watch.

"It was lovely to meet you, but I must be going. My friend is new to the city and will be lost in the stampede to the shelters."

Indira dipped her head low and sipped on her coffee. "Perhaps, we will meet again, Anakin Halliwell."

Anakin stepped out of the shop before the impact of her words settled in his mind. He spun around and found the table they were seated at empty. He scanned his surroundings both physically and magically. There was nothing out of the ordinary, but she had been sitting right across from him and he had felt nothing. Someone that adept at cloaking themselves was not someone to underestimate. He crossed the road quickly and ducked into an abandoned alley. A final check of his surroundings did not reveal any followers. He orbed away, his thoughts drifting back to when his search began.

* * *

 _Anakin stood apart from the rest of his family, watching them grieve. The Halliwell family had gathered together in the blown-out remains of the Manor. The police raid had left his ancestral home in tatters, but he felt very little attachment to the house. His reason for choosing it as a meeting place was completed. He had gone down into the basement moments after transporting his two aunts and nephew to the house. The Nexus with all of its vast connections to deeper and older magics was permanently sealed off from this plane of existence. They could not allow it to fall into the hands of evil._

 _He was relieved to see his mother. She had been the closest to death according to Uriel. Fate had already written her name on the List, but he had changed the situation exerting his will in a way he only knew Powers were capable of doing. She was still pale and weak but alive. Paige was currently healing her of any lingering ailments. Notably absent were his brothers. They were still in the midst of being transported to a navy ship a hundred miles out to sea. There they would be held indefinitely as enemies of the state. They were due to board the carrier ship in the harbor any moment now._

" _Adelrich Watson, a word," called Anakin calmly._

 _The older man frowned at him from his spot amongst the Halliwells. He was holding on tightly to a sobbing and shaking Sophia. She like the rest of the teens was only recently told the whole story of the failed rescue attempt of Zach. The only teen who was in a worse state of shock and sadness was Beth Parker. Emotionlessly he watched Adelrich extricate himself from his inconsolable daughter grasp._

" _Yes?" asked the tall man clearly annoyed._

 _Anakin raised an eyebrow and stared at the man coldly. "Are your men in place to intercept my brother's transport?"_

 _Adelrich blinked rapidly, clearly surprised Anakin knew as much. "That is correct," he said hesitantly._

 _Anakin nodded. "And you have a secure way of communicating with the team leader?"_

 _Again, Adelrich struggled to mask his surprise. "Yes."_

" _Have them stand down," said Anakin smoothly._

 _Adelrich's bushy eyebrows shot upward. "What! No. Never."_

 _Anakin kept his face passive. "Mr. Watson, your men will only get in the way. The people in charge of the transport of my brothers are far too powerful for mere witch hunters to deal with. I would prefer to keep the casualties to a minimum. Have your men stand down. Perhaps, they could be redirected into operations to saving the people trapped in the rubble at the courthouse."_

 _Mr. Watson looked him up and down. "Who are you?"_

 _Anakin smirked. "Anakin Halliwell, of course."_

 _He orbed away before the leader of the witch hunters could respond. He arrived on the deck of a medium-sized fishing vessel. A few of the men on board screamed at his arrival. A wave of his hand threw them overboard. He strolled briskly toward the command cabin. The heavy metal door slammed shut in his face. Wasting no time in useless shouting, he raised his hand and shoved it forward. The doors hinges creaked and groaned against the additional pressure. Something akin to a magical ward snapped into place, but Anakin was ready for the eventuality. Both of eyes grew bright and shone with a brilliant blue glow. The ward-like energy reverberated and shattered. Someone inside the cabin let out a bloodcurdling scream. Anakin gestured once more, and the door shot inward. He stepped inside, trampling over the crushed remains of the door's guards. Only the captain and a man dressed in army fatigues remained alive._

" _Captain, please turn off your radio. I do not wish to harm any more innocents."_

 _The captain reached out to follow his command, but the man behind him cleared his throat. The captain paused, struggling between two powerful instincts. Anakin solved his dilemma by blowing up the control panel. The captain stumbled away from the wreckage, but the other man remained where he was._

" _I take it you are in charge of the two prisoners?" asked Anakin icily._

 _The man nodded, face expressionless._

 _The captain whimpered and curled himself into a ball. Anakin gestured freezing the man in place. He turned his attention to his real adversary. He was clearly not surprised by magic, but he did not give off the usual stench of a demon or warlock. Letting out a slow breath Anakin examined the room, searching for traps. The government had a long time to perfect their defenses against magic since the last time he had gone up against mortals. Even if the man was not a demon, he could still be very deadly._

" _A name?" asked Anakin._

 _The man lowered his sunglasses, revealing red eyes._

" _So you are a demon. I was wondering how I could have gotten my facts remarkably inaccurate. Rahab would not leave my brothers in the hands of mortals. I'm sorry to say, but your bitch of a queen is on the run."_

 _The demon bared his yellowed teeth. "But my lord is risen again. Your days are numbered, witch."_

 _Anakin smirked. "They always were. I don't plan on living forever."_

 _Unsure of how to take Anakin's taunts, the demon attacked. He threw a massive fire ball at Anakin followed by a dozen smaller ones. Anakin did not even flinch. He let the fireballs pass right through him before conjuring one of his own. He waited until the demon's mouth dropped open before attacking. His fire ball did not fly through the air so much as one moment it was in the palm of his hand and the next it was leaving a massive hole in the demon's chest._

 _Anakin turned around and stepped back out of the cabin. The presence of the demon was all he needed to tell him that his brothers were already on board. He could not sense them, but wards against whitelighter magic were ridiculously easy to erect. Wanting to make a spectacle of the whole affair to remind the Underworld exactly what his family was capable of he raised his hands above his head. The floor beneath him rumbled softly but quickly the rumble built in intensity. The whole first deck of the ship evaporated. Revealing a second deck, which soon followed the first. The third and final deck was swarming with demons. Anakin lowered his hands and thick bolts of lightning rippled out of the cloudy sky, striking them dead. The over powered streams of superheated electricity left massive holes in the remains of the ship's hull._

 _Anakin landed gently on the sinking ship and calmly walked over to two cages. On the iron bars were carved ancient sigils and runes. He laughed at the naivety of the person who created the two prison cells. The magic would hardly have stopped his brothers from escaping if they had not been sedated. A simple gesture ripped the cages' doors free. Anakin picked up Chris and strung him over his shoulder with inhuman ease. Wyatt was already waking up by the time Anakin reached his cage._

" _Up and at it, Wyatt. This boat isn't going to remain afloat much longer."_

 _Wyatt's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Annie?"_

" _I'll explain later. Let's go. My little rescue operation will have attracted a lot of attention."_

 _Wyatt struggled to his feet and took Anakin's offered hand. The three brothers orbed out moments before the first of five missiles struck the boat and surrounding area._

 _Anakin deposited Chris on the couch and stepped aside for a heavily pregnant Serena to smother his groggy brother in kisses. He turned away and was met by the questioning stare of his eldest brother. He knew he owed Wyatt an explanation, but he was exhausted. Despite the lackadaisical way he had used his powers back at the boat, he was not as all-powerful as the display would make him appear, at least not anymore._

" _Give me two minutes to wash up, Wy."_

 _Wyatt caught him by the shoulder. "No. Washing up can wait."_

 _Most of the family was too lost in their grief to truly register what was going on around them. In fact, he was not entirely sure his mother and sister had recognized the addition of Wyatt and Chris to their number. One person who had noticed was Sarah, and she was making a beeline to them._

" _Perhaps, but your wife cannot." Anakin slipped out of Wyatt's grasp and retreated from the room._

 _Rebecca sat on the steps of the Manor, holding a framed photo to her chest. She looked up when he entered the hallway and grimaced. "Sorry."_

 _Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What are you sorry for?"_

" _Being in the way. Being sad. He was your nephew. I'm—I'm not even family."_

 _Anakin bent down and sat on his haunches. He softly wiped aside a tear clinging to her grimy cheek. "He was your boyfriend, and he cares for you deeply. I don't think he would begrudge you mourning his capture, and neither does his family."_

 _Rebecca nodded but did not look convinced. "We—ho—hic."_

" _He never stopped loving you, Rebecca. It was his love for you that saved him from that demon's seduction. That is no small thing. Don't doubt yourself or your love for him. It may be all that saves him again," said Anakin softly._

" _I'm not sure I can stand this. He gave himself up to save us. We tried to save him and lost Michael and Matt. How—how can…what sort of life is that?"_

 _Anakin patted her knee. "It's the life of a Halliwell. I struggled against it for years. In the end, I understood the importance of my sacrifice. It saved the people I loved. And for all the hurt my death might have caused, I hope that I can say none of them would trade in knowing me for the chance of not knowing that pain."_

 _Rebecca nodded slowly. "I—I just don't know."_

" _I…"_

 _Wyatt interrupted him. "Anakin," he said gruffly_

 _Anakin glanced over his shoulder at his brother. "Time to face the music. Believe me, Rebecca, he's worth it."_

 _Anakin stood up and straightened his shirt. "Wy, let's talk in the kitchen."_

 _Wyatt nodded and let him lead the way through to the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was a disaster area. Anakin briefly wondered if his mother had seen the remains of her beloved kitchen. He would hate to see what would be left of the persons who did this to the room. He leaned back against the kitchen island and waited for Wyatt to speak first. Wyatt did not disappoint._

" _How are you here? What happened to Zach? Where're Matt and Mike?"_

 _Anakin pondered the questions. "What do you know of what has happened?"_

 _Wyatt glared at his baby brother. "Stop avoiding the question! What are you? A fucking elder?"_

 _Anakin sneered. "Wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake? No, I'm not an elder. I'd never join those pompous sacks of hot air."_

" _Then what are you?"_

" _I'm Anakin, your brother. The ritual Rahab and Tiamat performed to bring back Lucifer…"_

" _LUCIFER IS BACK!"_

 _Anakin held up his hands to silence his brother. "Yes, he's back. The ritual they used to release him from the Cage created a rift in the fabric of the universe. The only way Uriel knew to repair the damage was by creating a balance. Who better to correct the imbalance created by Lucifer than the witch who defeated him the last time?"_

 _Wyatt ran a hand through his matted blond hair. "But—but that's impossible. No one can bring back the dead. It's impossible."_

" _Uriel is THE Angel of Death. I think he has the ins and outs of death pretty much fixed in his mind. Anyway, it's pointless arguing if it is possible. I'm here. Clearly, it is possible." Anakin played with his fingers._

" _And Zach, Matt, and Mike?"_

 _Anakin cringed. "I'm so sorry, Wy. I tried to stop him, but he's one slippery bastard. Matt and Zach are with him."_

 _Wyatt slapped both hands over his mouth and sunk to the floor shaking his head._

 _Anakin's upper lip shook. "Mike is dead."_

 _Wyatt looked up at Anakin through tear-filled eyes. "How?"_

 _Anakin shrugged. "I'm not sure. It was before I got there."_

" _Does Prue know?"_

 _Anakin nodded, deciding to take a seat on the floor as well. "I explained it to everyone before going to get you and Chris. I know it's terrible, and we all need to grieve. The problem is the Manor isn't safe. Lucifer will come after us. He knows striking us while we're reeling is his best chance of destroying us. He has mortals on his side. We need to find a safe haven."_

 _Sarah walked into the kitchen, eyes red and puffy. "What about my family's compound? It's the safest place I know besides the Manor."_

 _Anakin nodded. "That could work. Will your family accept outsiders? Those grounds are sacred."_

 _Sarah squared her shoulders. "They'll do whatever they're told. I want my son back, Anakin. If you need a stronghold to plan how you're getting him back, then I'll get you a damn stronghold."_

 _Anakin bowed his head, smiling inwardly. "Thank you, Sarah."_

* * *

A week had passed since the last time he had managed to follow the man in the suit. In the interim, he had discovered the name the man used with humans: Arnold "Arnie" Vosloo. He claimed to be the grandson of the actor by the same name. Anakin had to admit the man did bare an uncanny resemblance to the actor. The Arnie Vosloo was a lowly aide to the current representative for the city of San Francisco in the United States Congress. He was in town to gather personal testimonies of the horrors the city's inhabitants were facing. If only the people he interviewed knew the truth. Anakin had successfully followed the man from the newly constructed army barracks, which served as the functional governing center for the city, to a small speedboat docked in the harbor. The speedboat had disappeared from his magical radar on the edges of the storm surrounding Alcatraz.

Anakin currently stood on top of the Golden Gate Bridge with the cold sea breeze blowing through his slightly too long blond hair. He needed to get it cut. The city beneath him was in chaos. Helicopters buzzed through the air: some firing missiles and machine gun bullets into the buildings and streets and others trying to capture the destruction in the name of journalism. A loud rumble announced the collapse of the last segment of the Transamerica building. Flames engulfed the Fisherman's Warf.

During the last week, one of the rebellions had managed to get their hands on a tank or two. They had used the powerful weapons to terrible effect. After the destruction of the children's tower at one of the hospitals, the army had responded by turning the two tanks, the street, and the surrounding buildings to molten rubble. The casualties from that day were so astronomical that even a few tyrannical international regimens had come out and condemned the actions of the military.

He turned his attention to the mass of swirling clouds hiding Alcatraz from view. Lightning crackled and flashed dangerously. From deeper an angry and foreboding orange glow pulsated. The sea around the hidden island appeared to be in the midst of a terrible tempest. Waves crashed into other waves, spraying icy foam and seawater feet into the air. Wreckage of powerful vessels dotted the bay. The latest victim of the storm was still spewing ash, smoke, and fire from its shattered metallic belly.

"They're in there?" asked Wyatt appearing out of a swirl of telltale orbs.

Anakin scowled. He had warned his brothers and sister to stay with their mother and rest of their family back at the Compound. "Lucifer has wards in place to block my powers, but if they continued on from the last time I sensed them, yes."

Wyatt raised his hand and conjured a bright orb. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Anakin caught his brother's wrist before the older witch could throw the orb. "No, Wy, no. Their only chance of survival is surprise. Lucifer won't hesitate in murdering them if he felt threatened. At the moment they're serving their purpose, keeping us at bay. If he realizes we're here…"

Wyatt gritted his teeth and crushed the orb in his fist. Smoke poured out from between his fingers. "So what's your brilliant plan to rescue Matt and my son?"

"I never said I had a plan," mumbled Anakin to himself.

The taller and more physically powerful Halliwell grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him roughly against a red metal column. "WHAT IS THE PLAN!"

Anakin rubbed the back of his head. A welt was forming where his head had connected with the metal structure. "Calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN! That monster has my son. MY SON!"

Anakin's eyes flashed, transitioning from the green and blue to their formidable brilliant blue. "I know, Wy, believe me, I know. We're walking a tight line between success and failure."

Wyatt threw a punch, which Anakin automatically deflected. "This isn't some goddamn stratagem. This is my son. This is about Matt. Fuck, success and failure. We're getting our kids back. NOW!"

The storm over Alcatraz altered in intensity. Lightning built in force and struck out for the bridge. Both Wyatt and Anakin orbed out moments before the bolt of plasma and electricity connected with the spire. Metal superheated and buckled. Cables snapped and the whole bridge shuddered. Thunder boomed out across the ocean shattering road and glass in its wake. A dark shape floated out of the clouds. It threw something shiny at the bridge. The bridge shimmered and exploded. Anakin could only imagine how many people had suddenly lost their lives.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," taunted the shadowy figure in a loud screech that echoed across the Bay and city.

Another figure, this one surrounded by a bright halo of white light slipped out of the clouds and pulled the shadow back into the storm.

Anakin reappeared, floating in midair. Wyatt followed but fell out of the sky. Anakin reached out and caught his brother by the wrist, letting him hang from his arm.

"What the hell was that?" shouted Wyatt over the bitter wind.

Anakin slowly lowered his levitation until they were skimming the water surface. A snap of his fingers created a layer of thick ice. He placed his brother on the new thick ice shelf.

"That was Lucifer's latest handiworks. Without a balance of Powers to exert the Will of the Creator, he is able to finally accomplish one of his greatest desires: a creation of his own. Lilith and the other First Demons were shadows of his true dream. As powerful as they were, they ultimately were not his alone. He needed Hellequin's aid in breathing will and life into them," explained Anakin dispassionately.

Wyatt shuddered. "You've got to be joking."

Anakin chuckled darkly. "I wish I was. He will create an army of those things and exert his will on Creation."

"Can they be killed?"

Anakin shrugged. "The First can be vanquished. I don't think anything of this realm is truly immortal. The question is what will it cost to vanquish something designed to be the physical manifestation of the most powerful wills in Creation. I burnt Lucifer's very essence to a crisp, and he forced himself to stay alive. What's to say those things can't do the same?"

Wyatt ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "Anakin, what are we going to do?"

Anakin grinned manically. "What we always do, the impossible."

Wyatt scowled. "What does…"

"I think I see a way in," interrupted Anakin.

"Wh—what?" stammered Wyatt.

Anakin cocked a challenging eyebrow. "Coming?"

He offered a hand. Wyatt took hold of the hand and felt himself dissolve into the air. He blinked, and the dark clouds surrounded him. They were now inside the storm, standing on solid ground. He looked up and saw the source of the insidious orange glow. Where the prison building once stood was now a massive mountain of flowing liquid lava.

"A volcano?"

Anakin dropped his hand and shook his head. "It's molten brimstone. My guess: it's the clay Lucifer is using to form the physical bodies of his creations."

Something flew over them. Anakin pulled them into the shadows.

"Why here?"

Anakin shrugged. "Why not? San Francisco sits on a massive intersection of lay lines, but so do a half dozen other places in the world. Could be Lucifer's way of claiming the city."

Wyatt frowned. "But Jonathan set up his base here as well, and…"

Anakin signaled for him to stop talking. Something heavy landed on the roof of their alcove. Debris and dust tumbled out of the cracked and ruined roof as the creature moved. Wyatt heard its raspy breath even over the cacophony from the storm. It clicked and screeched. A second creature dropped out of the sky right in front of the alcove. Wyatt held his breath.

The creature vaguely resembled the preferred humanoid form the wraiths often took. These new creations, however, were taller and leaner than the wraiths. Their skin appeared to be more reptilian and was shaded a dark violet. The one in front of them had a deadly looking beak instead of a mouth and nose. Its sickly green eyes glowed with malevolence and brutality. Out of its back sprouted two massive wings covered in polished black feathers. It opened its beak and a high-pitched wailing pierced the air. Distant creatures echoed the earsplitting cry. It jerked its head from side to side and jumped, wings spread out, and it vanished from view. Sounds from the roof announced the other creature's departure.

Anakin stepped out of the shadows and peered out of the alcove. "It's clear."

"They're—shit."

Anakin nodded. "Scary aren't they?"

"How many do you think there are?"

"If his experiments with demons are anything to go by, the first batch will consist of six or seven lieutenants. From there it's anybody's guess. The process is not simple. He will test his first set before forming more. He does not lack pawns to throw against his other enemies and us at the moment."

Wyatt eyed his brother. "How do you know all this?"

Anakin smiled, eyes sparkling. "Now's not the time, Wy. I broke you and Chris out of prison to protect Mom, Prue, and the rest of the family. Without you there they are in danger. We need to hurry."

Wyatt growled.

Anakin breathed out and offered his brother an apologetic look. "It's—I'll explain everything once we're done here. Ok?"

"Fine. Can you sense Zach or Matt?"

Anakin nodded. "They're directly below us."

Wyatt looked down at the ground. "How?"

Anakin glanced up at the sky. "Are you ready to fight one of those things?"

"What!"

Anakin, eyes shining, raised his hand above his head, calling down a dozen bolts of lightning. The ground beneath them exploded, and they fell into the newly formed hole. Amidst the sounds of destruction, Anakin heard the cry of one of the creatures. The alarm had been sounded. He hit the ground and rolled out of the way of a massive block of concrete. Wyatt's shield sprung to life. Anakin scrambled to his feet, feeling lightheaded and woozy. He reached up and felt a thick strip of warm blood on his forehead. He reached for his brother.

"We've got maybe five minutes before all of hell descends on us."

Wyatt spun around and vanquished a clocked warlock who was crawling out of the rubble. "What happened to needing the element of surprise?"

Anakin glanced at the gaping hole they had fallen through. "The whole place is warded to the hilt. Breaking through the roof was the only option. Matt and Zach are close. You go and find them. I'll distract the guards."

Wyatt bit his lip. "Anakin…"

"Go, Wy!" shouted Anakin; the first of the creatures, this one with a more feline face just dropped down into the hole. Wyatt vanished through an opening in the rock face.

The creature screamed and charged. Anakin waved his hand and pieces of the debris flew at the creature. It batted the massive boulders aside with no more effort than flicking away an insect. With a moment to spare, Anakin ducked and sidestepped the creature. It stumbled to a stop and spun around.

"Anakin, I thought you'd be a challenge," the creature said in a very melodic voice.

Anakin's now brown eye darkened and his blue one grew bright. "Sekhmet? Couldn't he be original at least?"

Sekhmet gave him a feral grin. "You don't like my name? I'm hurt."

"Where's Rahab?"

Sekhmet licked her lips sensually. "She is where she belongs."

Anakin slowly inched his way away from Sekhmet while keeping the doorway Wyatt had disappeared through behind him. The beaked creature landed just behind Sekhmet.

"What is taking so long?" squawked the latest arrival.

Sekhmet glared at bird-face. "Shut it, Montu. Go find a rat to feast on."

Montu shook his head, and energy crackled around him. "Anubis wants this done."

Sekhmet chuckled. "And you're Anubis' little bitch? I'm one of Lucifer's chosen. Anubis can kiss my ass. I'll take as long as I like."

The energy around Montu shimmered, and the temperature in the room rose dramatically. The floor nearest the angered creature bubbled and started to liquefy. Anakin closed his eyes, praying Wyatt found his nephews soon.

"There was a second," said Montu followed by a series of clicks.

Sekhmet rolled her green eyes. "Set is following him."

Montu eyed Anakin. "Witches, pathetic. Hurry up and end him." His wings opened up and with a powerful sweep lifted him back out of the hole.

Sekhmet, smiling, turned her attention to Anakin. "You'll have to excuse my colleague. His manners have never been the best."

"How many are there of you?" asked Anakin, stalling for time. He needed a plan to dispatch Sekhmet quickly. He needed to find his brother.

Sekhmet pondered the question. Her feline ears twitched in interest. "Lucifer is his incredible wisdom deigned to create seven of my kind to act as his lieutenants: four to do his dirty work, two to gather intelligence, and one to be his spokesperson."

"Including Montu?"

Sekhmet guffawed. "Montu is a half-wit."

Anakin shivered. If the winged, bird-faced creature was considered the weakest of these new demons, he was in for a terrible battle. Sekhmet certainly gave off the aura of a trained and highly skilled warrior. He had felt her sizing him up and probing his mental defenses as they spoke. His knowledge of Egyptian deities was severely lacking. He recognized the name Anubis, but Montu and Sekhmet escaped him. Regardless, he was not sure the knowledge would even prove helpful. Lucifer could have chosen the names simply because he liked the sound of them. The beings the legends were based on were long dead and vanquished, save one.

Sekhmet shifted her stance, and her wings pulled back tightly until they were almost indistinguishable from her scaly skin save for their color. She produced a pair of wicked looking sai. She dropped into an attack stance and beckoned him to make a move. The sickly green eyes slowly melted away to be replaced by predatory amber. Her feline smile sent a shiver down Anakin's spine.

He recognized he would be outmatched in physical combat; it had been nearly a decade since he had wielded a sword. He opted to keep their battle purely magical, which meant keeping a great deal of distance between him and the lioness demon. He waved his hand and sent another massive boulder soaring toward her. The moment she focused on the rock, he flicked his wrists unleashing the deadliest power he had inherited from his mother. She ducked under the boulder and blocked his second attack with her weapons.

She motioned with the tip of one of her sai, and the collection of debris and rubble behind her rose into the air. Another small twitch sent the makeshift weapons hurtling at him. Anakin threw out one hand in front of him. His palm grew fiery red and a wall of destructive energy enveloped everything in front of him. Rock, cement, and metal were vaporized in the wake of the wave. Sekhmet's massive wings sprang to life and surrounded her. Anakin flicked his wrists four times in quick succession. Each blow drove Sekhmet backward but did not penetrate her black wings.

He stopped his onslaught, and she arose unwounded. She smiled in victory. Anakin pointed up. She looked up to find herself beneath the massive hole Anakin had created in the roof. Anakin pulled his hand down hard once again calling lightning down from the sky. She screamed, but she was too late. A bolt of lightning struck her in the shoulder, leaving behind a smoking ruined mess of burnt flesh. Anakin flicked his wrists. Unprepared, the attack found its mark. A large section of flesh from her stomach disintegrated. Before he could attack again, she flapped her wings and vanished through the roof. Anakin let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

Wyatt charged down the formless passageway. The few demons he met; he easily dispatched. Even with Anakin telling him his son and Matt were somewhere in this fortress, he could not sense them. He had to trust that his brother was telling him the truth. There was no reason for Anakin to lie to him, but his brother had not been himself ever since his resurrection. He felt too cold and distant at times. It was more than a defensive measure like Sarah and Chris kept telling him. There was something he was keeping from everyone else, something important.

He reached a fork in the passage and stopped to catch his breath. One fork led up and the other down. His first reaction was to take the one leading deeper into the earth. They were going after demons. Something gave him enough pause to question his initial judgment. Lucifer was originally a Power That Be. Anakin had said he sensed the boys beneath them, but how far beneath them.

"God damn you, Anakin!" he yelled.

He chose the passage heading down and started running as fast as he could. The alarm had been raised. They were running out of time. He had to find his son and nephew soon. He could not lose either of them. They had lost too much already to the fight between Good and Evil. They deserved a break. The passageway spilled out into a massive auditorium. He tried to stop himself but the ground was wet, and he slipped.

"Not so agile are we, Twice Blessed?" mocked an echo.

Wyatt spun around. The room was empty as far as he could see. In the center sat the base of the volcano. Small cracks in the conical mountains façade revealed glowing red-hot magma. The smell of sulfur was suffocating. Sweat dripped down his back and covered his forehead. The heat in the room was unbearable.

"Show yourself," he yelled.

Something in the shadows to his right shifted. He struck out with an energy ball. It flew harmlessly through the air until it collided with the distant rock face.

"A little bit jumpy, today, aren't we?" taunted the voice.

Wyatt closed his eyes and forced himself to still his mind. He needed to be focused if he was going to break through whatever cloak his tormentor had on him. As his racing thoughts stilled the sense of the ebb and flow of magic around him grew more distinct. It had been Anakin who had taught him this trick. To his left was a vortex of magic, like a rock in path of a rushing river. He also picked up a glowing spark. His eyes flew open. Matthew!

"I don't have time for games. Come out and fight or slink back into whatever puddle of pus you crawled out of," called out Wyatt.

Exactly where the vortex in magic was appeared a young man dressed in all black. He was slightly shorter than Wyatt and had blond hair cut in the style of a marine. His emotionless grey eyes shone with untapped power, almost like Anakin's did. The man was stockier than him also, but Wyatt had no doubt the excess weight was pure muscle. Wyatt called forth Excalibur and poured some of his magic into the blade. The blade ignited with a deadly blue energy. The man smirked.

"An incredible weapon. It is second only to the famed sword my master wields. Perhaps I shall claim it today and get to test it out against its twin," said the man with a slight accent.

Wyatt charged forward with Excalibur held high. His blade swiped down and crashed into a blade made of bronze. His blow drove the man back, and he stumbled. The man used the retreat to roll down onto his hip and came around slashing wide and level with his ancient sword. His grey eyes blazed with an intensification of the feral nature Wyatt initially spotted. The snarl on his face matched his eyes and betrayed no sort of surprise or fear Wyatt usually saw in his opponents.

Wyatt leapt above the slash, though not as high or as aerodynamically as he would have liked. He was not used to facing a formidable opponent with Excalibur. He switched hands and stabbed Excalibur downward to catch the second return cut. He pivoted on the ball of his foot and snapped a side kick at his opponent's head. He ducked back, rolling through a somersault, and came to a stop back on his feet.

His bronze blade came up in a guard high by his ear. Wyatt faced him, his blade held in two hands and running from his breastbone toward a point near his instep. The light from Excalibur turned his sweat into a lustrous sheen.

Wyatt attacked and the man parried. They exchanged furious blows, neither gaining a clear advantage. With each retreating step, Wyatt felt his muscle memory returning. Every attack proved to him how little he truly knew about sword fighting. He could feel his muscles beginning to tire. The dull ache in his shoulders made him bite his lip. He needed help, and it would not be coming.

"It seems the Twice Blessed is not all who he is cracked up to be," said the man, panting heavily.

"Maybe not, but his brother certainly packs a punch," yelled Anakin.

Both Wyatt and the man spun around. Anakin lowered one of his hands while raising the other. The largest fire ball Wyatt had ever seen sprang into existence between his brother's palms. The fire ball vanished for a second and reappeared inches from the man's chest. His eyes were burning a brilliant white, and his human mask was slipping. The skin molted off revealing black silky fur. His nose elongated into a long snout similar to an anteater's nose. He gritted his teeth, which were no longer human but more shark-like. Wyatt could see the inch thick layer of pure energy the man was deploying to keep the fire ball from burning him to a crisp.

"Find Matt and Zach," yelled Anakin, keeping the pressure on the demon.

"What is he?" asked Wyatt.

"Set," hissed Anakin, dropping to one knee. The fire ball was slowly moving away from Set.

"Set?" Wyatt raised Excalibur.

Anakin shimmered out of the way as his own attack burst away from Set. It crashed into the floor where he had been kneeling, leaving behind a creator. Anakin appeared next to Wyatt. Set grinned and conjured balls of utter darkness. His sword lay forgotten on the ground. The power in Excalibur blinked and died. Wyatt felt something tug at the part of him he associated with his magic. Anakin whispered a few words and spun around in a circle. A cage similar to the one formed by crystals sprung to life.

"You sensed, Matt?" asked Anakin still eyeing Set.

Set walked in a slowly methodical circle still holding the two orbs of darkness.

Wyatt nodded. "He's up top."

Anakin nodded. "Zach is here. Somewhere. His signal keeps falling away. I think Lucifer is with him."

Wyatt gestured at Set. "Set?"

"Another of Lucifer's creations. He appears to have taken his inspiration from the Egyptian gods and goddesses."

"And those things in his hand?"

Anakin shuddered. "Exactly what you think."

Wyatt gulped. "How is that possible? I thought the Hollow was impossible to control."

"Obviously not."

"How are we getting out of here?"

Anakin glanced at Set. He had stopped his circling and was murmuring something in an ancient language. The battle with Sekhmet had tired him considerably. They only had one shot at knocking Set off his balance. Then they had to flee. Hopefully, they could reach Matt and save him before being chased off the island. Zach, if he was with Lucifer, was another problem. They would not stand a chance against Lucifer in their current state.

"When I drop the ward, run. Get to Matt. Use Excalibur. Don't use your powers," whispered Anakin out of the corner of his mouth.

Set snarled and lashed out. Something hot and white crashed against the wards, throwing Anakin to the ground. He ignored the buzzing sound in his head and canceled the ward. Without waiting to see what Wyatt was doing he launched himself at Set. The sudden physical attack caught the demon-god off balance, and Anakin knocked him to the ground. He summoned an athame and plunged it at Set's face. The invisible force field shattered the blade and threw Anakin off the more muscular man.

Anakin scrambled to his feet and summoned torrents of water out of the ground. Four thick streams of dark blue water twisted around him. He motioned in Set's direction and the four streams struck like trained vipers. Set's counter was to break open the volcano. Water and magma met with explosive force. Anakin was thrown back. He somersaulted his way out of the way of the largest flows of steaming lava. He landed near the entrance to the room. Set stood on the opposite side. Anakin saluted his opponent and pulled down. The roof crashed down around him cutting him off from the grand auditorium.

The physical barrier would not slow down Set for long. Anakin back up the corridor at a sprint, summoning a sword of his own. He had a feeling the new demons could sense magic. If they did not use magic, it might slow down how quickly they were tracked down. He came to the force in the passage and charged up the left path. It led in the direction his felt his brother. Suddenly he burst out of the ground and into a firestorm of energy and fire balls.

Wyatt stood in the center of the field expertly deflecting attacks with a once again glowing Excalibur. Anakin summoned an athame and threw it at a nearby warlock. The warlock dropped to the floor. He collected the athame amongst the ashes and used it to dispatch a further three demons before slicing off the head of a fourth with his purple blade. He met up with his brother and together they marched toward a large shed. The concentration of demons around the shed was significant. From above the horrible cry of the Egyptian deity knockoffs echoed. They were running out of time.

The ground beneath them trembled. Set or someone was bashing his way to the surface. Anakin threw caution to the wind and released a wave of energy. Demon and warlocks burst into flames, leaving a clear path to the shed. Wyatt wasted no time in closing the distance. They entered the wooden hollow.

"Matt!" Wyatt cried in relief.

Anakin noted his nephew's relief was followed by a grimace of pain. He followed the cords that wrapped around Matt's wrists and ankles. They tightened and loosened in a clear pattern to keep Matt from every feeling comfortable. The angles his shoulders were rotated also maximized discomfort. The contraption was designed to torture.

"Wy, hold up," said Anakin.

Wyatt frowned "What? We don't have a lot of time."

"That thing is meant to keep him in pain. You cut one arm loose and it's bound the fracture the other. We need to disable it first."

"How?"

Anakin tilted his head to one side. "Like this."

He released a single stream of lightning. It hit the connection point of the straps. Whatever magic powered the device fragmented under the excess energy, and the straps loosened their grip on Matt, dropping to the floor. Wyatt caught him.

"I knew you'd come," said Matt hoarsely, eyes shut.

Something bright and powerful burst out of the ground before them. Anakin threw out his hand and blasted the newcomer with a telekinetic wave. The figure fell backward, but quickly righted himself.

"Anakin!" greeted Lucifer with a vengeful smile.

Anakin backed up until he was within reach of Wyatt. He knew his brother would hate him, but there was no other choice. "I'd love to stay and chat."

Lucifer chuckled. "I am sure. We could have tea."

"Where's Zach?" asked Wyatt.

Lucifer slowly focused on Wyatt. "Your son is quite comfortable, Halliwell."

"Like Matt was?" snarled Wyatt.

Lucifer shook his head. "Matthew's situation was one of his own design. Zachary has been much more amenable to my offers."

"Don't listen to him, Wy," warned Anakin.

"Yes, Anakin, why do you not tell him all about the terrible person I am. Have you told them everything you did? How about the time you met Zachary in the streets of the city? Why did you not just recuse him then? Why leave him in my clutches? Was it not part of your master plan? If Wyatt had not shown up today, would you have attempted this half-hearted rescue attempt?" said Lucifer.

Anakin snarled.

Wyatt stepped forward, readying Excalibur.

Lucifer laughed heartily. "Do you really imagine you can take me on with that letter opener? I think someone's head is too big for their ego. I may need to knock you down a peg or two."

Lucifer struck out as Anakin orbed them away. His attack destroyed the shed, taking without the dozen important ancient magical artifacts. Lucifer screamed. The energy released from his anger vanquished any remaining demon and warlock on the island.

Back at the Compound, Anakin appeared in a swirl of orbs along with Wyatt and Matt. Anakin opened his mouth to explain, but Wyatt beat him to it. He was too slow to deflect the fist this time, and Anakin knew only darkness.

* * *

AN: So what did you think? Let me know in a review. In keeping with the theme of my other stories the bad guys have names borrowed from other religions/mythologies. Beyond using the physical appearances, the Egyptian gods and goddesses will not influence heir counterparts in my story. You are always more than welcome to pinpoint any discrepancies you see. I will be happy to discuss them with you.

As a side note, this story will feature the extended Halliwell family. If anyone is confused by the massive influx of characters over the next few chapters, I can publish a short list of the main characters. Just let me know if you think it will help.

Alright, I have stolen enough of your time. I'll let you get on with your lives...after you leave me a review ;).


	2. Field of Paper Flowers

AN: The second part is here! I'm glad you liked the first chapter. I have created a list of the Halliwells which I'll post at the end of this chapter. Lists for the other characters may follow with future chapters.

* * *

FIELD OF PAPER FLOWERS

"Is your husband going to grace us with his presence this morning, Sarah?" asked Suyana Ingerman.

Sarah glared at her elderly mother. The gray, long-haired woman sat at the head of the dining table with a straight back and stern expression. She was more suited to presiding over a meeting of kings and chieftains than a family breakfast. The matriarch was a woman formed by poverty and suffering. She was the oldest of three and had always been the family's protector. The tough childhood prepared her for her eventual position in the tribe as its physical and magical defender. Her commanding presence alluded to her true form of a massive mother Kodiak bear. Even in her human form her brown eyes kept some of their ursine nature

"He is in the shower, mother," said Sarah tersely.

Suyana clucked her tongue in disapproval. "We are a family that eats together, but we are also a busy family. He is aware that we eat at eight?"

Michael rubbed his chin. "They had a long day, yesterday, mom. Cut him some slack."

"We all had a long day, yesterday, my son, yet we still managed to get to the table in a timely fashion," said Suyana, still staring at Sarah.

Sarah balled her hands up under the table. "Go ahead and eat, mother. If you have something pressing to get to, don't let us hold you up. I'm sure I can find my husband something to eat."

Suyana rolled her eyes. "Don't be dramatic, Sarah, it is not becoming. We, of course, can and will wait."

The pronouncement gained a groan from the youngest at the table. David Ingerman took after his father in many ways including in temperament. With short black hair and dark chocolate eyes, David was already the object of attraction for a number of the younger female Halliwells. He laughed off the attention. They were all too young for him, but Sarah noticed he put an extra strut in his step whenever they were near. At the moment, his mind was more set on stuffing his stomach than impressing the fairer sex.

"Why are we waiting for Wyatt? He should be eating with his family in the other house," complained David.

"DAVID!" snapped Layla Yousefi, his mother and Michael's long-term girlfriend.

David cringed. "Sorry, Auntie Sarah, I—I didn't mean…"

Sarah smirked. "No worries, Dave. Zach forgets his manners when he's denied food as well."

Suyana cleared her throat. "There will be none of that talk here."

"Why not, Mother? He is my son. I'll talk about him whenever I please," hissed Sarah, rising to her bait.

Michael gently nudged her shin from across the table. He imperceptibly shook his head from side to side. Sarah narrowed her brown eyes so like her mother's and gritted her teeth. She hated how everyone was willing to tiptoe around Suyana. It had only gotten worse since her father passed away the month before. At least, he would tell her the way things were. He could stand up to her and her idea of how the world should work.

The stern matriarch pursed her lips and gave her daughter a disapproving look. "He is my grandson, Sarah. Do you honestly think I have forgotten who he is? Discussions about him will bring us to the attention of the one who holds him. The only chance that man you call a husband has to save Zachary is by us staying hidden."

Sarah clenched her jaw. "Moth…"

Wyatt spoke up from the doorway with his hair still dripping. "Sorry, I'm late. What did I miss?"

Sarah stood up and walked over to him. "We're going to eat with your family."

Wyatt frowned. "I thought it was Tuesday. We eat with your family on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Wyatt, no arguing, let's go."

David, grinning, spoke up. "Hey, Uncle Wy!"

Wyatt greeted the lanky teen with a warm smile. "What's for breakfast?"

"Eggs and bacon and pancakes," said David excitedly.

Sarah squeezed Wyatt's hand. "Please, let's get out of here."

"I'll catch you later, little man," said Wyatt over his shoulder as he let himself be led out of the kitchen.

They made it to the covered porch outside the sturdy log cabin before Sarah dropped his hand. She took aim and kicked a watering can off the porch and a decent distance into the quaint garden beyond. Cursing under her breath she started toward the stairs. Wyatt stopped her, pulling her into a worried hug.

"What's wrong, Sar?"

Sarah worked her mouth around words, but her anger stilled her tongue. "She's a bitch."

Wyatt chuckled. "Is that all? Come on, babe, you and her mom always get into it. Usually, you're able to handle it a bit better than this."

Michael stepped out of the house. "Oh, good, you're still here. Sarah…"

Sarah held up a hand. The air around the hand shimmered dangerously. "Don't. Don't even, Michael! She was over the line, and you know it. She fucking dictates everything! Not this, never this. She can tell me what damn shoes to wear to the council meeting. She does not get to tell me when and where I can talk about my family—my son. Not today—not after…"

She clutched onto Wyatt's white pressed shirt as tears overtook her. Wyatt pulled her closer to him and kissed her on the top of the head.

Michael stood dead still with his mouth slightly open. His sister had always been the calm and collected one in their family. He and his parents would fight constantly during his high school years. Sarah acted as the mediator between the two groups until she went off to college. During her years away from the Reservation, she had met and fell in love with an outsider. Their mother had never accepted Wyatt as part of the family. Sarah's marriage to the powerful witch created a giant schism in her relationship with their mother, but she still was cordial to the demanding matriarch. She let her displeasure show in more subtle ways. He had always admired her for her restraint. He had never been in the position where he had to act as an emissary.

"Sarah," he said softly, "I'm not trying to defend her. She can be a pain in the ass. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. She is still family, and family sticks together, no matter what. You taught me that."

Sarah relinquished her grip on Wyatt and faced her brother. "She isn't acting like our mother. She's presiding over some God damn gathering of the clans. I can't stand it, Mickey. There is a war going on out there. My son is trapped out there, and she's expecting me to act like a princess."

Michael and Wyatt laughed. Sarah hit Wyatt in the stomach. He quickly turned his laughter into a coughing fit.

"You were never a princess, sis. She wants you to be exactly who you are. You are the tribe's defender, the war chief. She knows there's a war going on, and she terrified. She knows what a war means for you—for us," explained Michael gently.

Wyatt licked his lips. "He's right, Sar. Your mother is a lot of things, but she does care about you fiercely. Everything she's ever done has been to protect you and Mickey and the rest of your family. She might not always go about it in a way that you like, but it's true. She does love you."

Sarah sighed and furiously rubbed her eyes, expunging any lingering tears. "I hate you both."

Michael smiled broadly. "No, you don't. You love us."

"Do we have to go back in there?" asked Sarah tiredly. "Can't I just let her stew for a little bit?"

"But there's bacon," said Wyatt.

Sarah glared back at him. "Traitor!"

Wyatt kissed her. "Besides with me there, she won't even notice you. You know how much she _loves_ me."

* * *

Anakin woke up in his bed with a pounding headache. Groaning he rolled onto his side and gingerly opened his eyes. Bright sunlight streamed in from the closed window across the tiny room. It was barely large enough to contain his single sized bed and a pathetically small desk. On the desk sat a military grade laptop. He had stolen it during one of his raids with Mr. Watson's rebel group. He was impressed by the extensive collection of agents and sources the ex-witch hunter had built up over his career.

The laptop sat open with a small green icon flashing. Someone was transmitting information to the computer. He checked the simple hand-carved wooden clock hanging above his bed. It was time for the daily debriefing bulletin from Washington. Whoever had originally owned the laptop had access to a lot of highly sensitive and secret information. He or she was also kept informed on any changes in the government's agenda or plans. It was one of these debriefings that had put him on the trail of the man in the suit. He now suspected the man was one of Lucifer's lieutenants. He shuddered. That meant Lucifer had people in the government. He had people running the government.

Realizing he could not hide out in bed all day, Anakin stretched and sat up. He summoned an outfit for the day out of the broken built-in closet. He swung his feet off the bed, and they touched the cool polished wooden floor. Small-carved runes in the floor flickered to life at his touch. A few days after settling into the Compound, he had drawn up plans to strengthen the already significant set of wards that protected the extensive property. Sarah's family were descendants of two of the most powerful clans outside his family. Their magic was not as flashy as Warren magic, but they were second to none in terms of defensive magic. Nevertheless, Anakin felt safer when he had added his own wards to their protections. The runes were physical signs of a much larger weaving of magics.

"Finally up?" asked Chris, opening the warped bedroom door. "Good. Wyatt and Sarah are coming down to the house soon. We're going to chat."

Anakin groaned. "Can't I get a few hours to myself? There's the new debriefing to read and…"

Chris folded his arms across his chest. "Annie, I'm eternally grateful for you rescuing Matt, but we've got to talk. You—there's stuff you're hiding from us. When you hide stuff from us, it's never good."

Anakin rubbed his temples, exasperated. "At least a shower, then. I need a shower."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "Fine, but then we talk."

Anakin nodded in defeat. Chris left, leaving the door open. Anakin stood up and found himself dressed in pajamas. He did not remember changing last night. He never wore pajamas. The last thing he remembered was Wyatt's fist hitting his face. The bottoms had little green and red lightsabers scattered over it. The pajamas must have been a present from one of his family members. He could not remember whom. They had all insisted on throwing a party for his return and had bought him presents, mainly clothes. He padded along the short corridor to the shared bathroom, carrying his clothes under his arm.

A small brown-haired boy exited the bathroom in front of him. The boy jumped slightly at the sight of him. Alexander Gordon Love was the only son of Paisley and a man by the name of Anton. He was tall for a ten-year-old and had a round face like his mother. He also had a collection of faint freckles on his face, especially over his nose and cheeks. They too reminded Anakin of a young Paisley.

"Morning, Alex," said Anakin pleasantly.

Alex shifted nervously. "Hi, Anakin."

Anakin frowned slightly but kept his smile shining. "All done?"

Alex glanced back into the bathroom. "Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Do you know what we're having for breakfast?"

Alex shook his head and stepped to the side.

"Alex? ALEX!" called Paisley from down the hall.

"Coming," said Alex with obvious relief.

Anakin watched the boy scamper away from him as fast as his spindly legs could carry him. Shaken by the experience, he stepped in the bathroom and shut the door. He laid his clothes neatly on the lid of the wicker laundry basket. He straightened up and caught a glimpse of himself in the steamy mirror. The reaction from his younger cousin made a little more sense. His right eye sported a nasty bruise, but it was not his most remarkable feature. His left eye was a deep crimson with swirling flecks of black and gold.

"For heaven's sake!"

The air in the room grew stale and heavy for a moment. The color in the corner behind him inverted as a man stepped out of nowhere. The man had taken on many shapes over the course of Anakin's experiences with him. Currently, he sported his least fear inspiring appearances. He was wearing thick black rimmed glasses that sat snuggly on his slightly too large nose. Blond-turning-gray hair was thinning and brushed back out of his square face. He wore a grandfatherly brown cardigan over a simple blue button down shirt and comfortable black pants. He might have passed for human if it was not for his pale icy eyes. Uriel was a scary Power That Be to meet even on his good days.

"Uriel," hissed Anakin.

Uriel blinked, and a regal chair appeared. He sat down and folded his arms in his lap. He stared up at the fuming witch with an unearthly disdain. "Calm yourself," he commanded in a strong deep voice tinged with a British accent.

Anakin grabbed hold of the sink to keep himself from trying to punch the Power. The white porcelain cracked beneath his fingertips. He took a deep breath and stared at his image in the mirror. The steam that had fogged and distorted the view vanished. Uriel's appearance had dropped the temperature in the room a good few degrees. The hair on his arm stood on end, and goosebumps formed in response.

"I said, 'calm yourself.' Anakin, this will not do. You cannot afford to lose sight of what is at stake. You cannot lose control. The fiasco on the island has cost you dearly. Breathe and calm yourself."

Anakin forced himself to turn and face Uriel. "I am calm. This is me being calm."

Uriel rolled his eyes and yawned. "I thought we were beyond these juvenile displays. I will shut you down if you cannot control yourself. Get it together and calm your powers. They are boiling, fighting for a release. You know the messy results that may unleash."

Tiny sparks of electricity jumped between Anakin's fingers. His breath rose in puffs of mist as the temperature continued to decline.

Uriel sighed and raised a single finger. He lowered it again swiftly. Something powerful slammed into Anakin's back, knocking him to the ground. He tried to get up, but the pressure pinned him to the floor, crushing the air out of his lungs. Uriel stood up, and the chair vanished.

"You must learn to control yourself. Everything depends on you learning to harness your powers. You cannot do that if you do not have control. So calm yourself. And next time you decide to face my brother, tell me."

Uriel vanished, and with him the pressure on Anakin's back. He crawled to the sink and with some effort pulled himself back onto his feet. His ribs ached, and a glance over his shoulders and into the mirror revealed the start of bruises up and down his back. His eyes, however, had returned to their normal colors: one blue and the other green. Heaving an emotional sigh, he turned on the shower to its hottest setting without the water scalding his skin. It was going to be a long day.

The hot water eased the tension in his back muscles. Yesterday had nearly been a complete disaster. He had spent a month planning and organizing his attack on Lucifer's stronghold. A rescue mission designed to leave the powerful dark Power at a loss to what had happened to his two most valuable prisoners. Instead, he had been forced to engage with a number of Lucifer's henchmen and failed to save the one person he needed to save. His instructions were clear. His mission was vital. When it came down to choosing, though, he could not sacrifice his brother and Matthew. They were too important to him. He slammed his fist against the tilled wall hard enough to break the skin. He watched blood color the water at his feet before being drawn down the drain. Golden light briefly engulfed the fresh wound, healing it.

He did not want to be this person. He had not asked for the responsibility of saving the whole world. He had played his part in fulfilling his family's destiny. It had cost him the love of his life. It had cost him his life. Uriel had screwed up when he selected him to play the counter to the Power's evil brother. He could never be as disconnected as the mission required him to be, not about other people's lives. He turned off the water and stood still letting the remaining droplets drip from his body. Someone knocked at the door.

"Who is it?"

The hoarse voice of Richard Brooks answered him. "It's Rick."

Anakin sighed. "I'm just getting out. Give me two secs."

Anakin grabbed the nearest towel and dried his hair as best his could before wrapping it around his thin waist. He collected his clothes and opened the door. The sight that greeted him was not pretty. Richard had not taken the loss of his twin well. He rarely left his room, and the few time he did he never spoke to anyone besides his mother and father. The fourteen-year-old stared blankly at him from sunken bloodshot eyes. His brown hair stood up at odd angles and a bit of dried and crusty tomato soup marred his jawline.

"Morning, Rick."

Rick blinked slowly. "Anakin."

Anakin reached out and squeezed Richard's shoulder. "If you ever need to talk, I'm around."

Rick nodded. "I've got to shower."

"Of course, but seriously, anytime. All you've got to do is ask," said Anakin with deep compassion. He remembered all too well the horribly gnawing loss the death of a sibling created.

Anakin stepped out of the bathroom as Richard entered it. The teen was thinner than he remembered. He also had his white undershirt on inside out. The lack of caring froze his heart. He recognized the signs. He would talk to his nephew today. The family did not need another tragedy.

"Oh, good, you're done," said the hard voice of his sister.

Prue, like her son, had taken the loss of Michael hard. Unlike Richard, she used the hurt and anger to fuel her actions. She spent more time in the Underworld vanquishing demons and warlocks than anyone else. There were horror stories told by the few survivors about her merciless slaughter. She was no longer the loving and caring sister he remembered from his childhood. She was a hardened warrior. Except, he could see through the cold exterior. He understood just how much she was hurting on the inside.

"Morning, Prue," he said warmly.

Prue rolled her eyes. "Wyatt called. He'll be here in a few."

Anakin nodded. "Have you seen Matt?"

Prue flicker her hair over her shoulder. "He's still sleeping last I heard."

"Did I miss much last night?"

Prue eyed his lack of clothing. "Go get dressed, Anakin."

She turned around and strode off down the hall. Anakin closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew from the beginning that his family would greet him with resistance and mistrust. They all understood the laws surrounding death all too well. He had hoped he would at least have a sympathetic ear in his sister, but she barely spoke to him. He assumed she blamed him for Michael's death; even though, he had arrived after the fact.

"Tough morning?"

Anakin smirked despite himself. "Isn't it always in this family? How are you, Paige?"

Paige pulled him into a tight embrace despite his lack of clothes. "They're all grieving, Annie. You have to stick with it. They'll come around."

Anakin nodded. "I know. It's difficult; because, I'd blame me too."

"You saved all of us that night. We'd all be dead or captured if you hadn't been there."

They walked in the direction of his room.

"Any word from Henry Jr.?"

Paige shook her head. "No. And the news from Lisbon isn't getting any better. I'd orb there in a heartbeat to search for him, but…"

"But Pyrrha and Penny would follow you," finished Anakin. They reached his bedroom.

Paige breathed out heavily. "I've got to just hope he got out in time."

Anakin agreed and offered a reassuring smile. "Henry is too much like you to have been taken out in some random bombing. He's a survivor. I'm sure he'll turn up soon."

"Thanks, Annie." Paige leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Now go get dressed. I don't think Wy will take being naked as an excuse."

Anakin raised both of his eyebrows. "Don't I know it."

Dressed and feeling mildly more presentable a few minutes later, Anakin descended the stairs of his family's shelter. The makeshift living room was full with the younger kids all glued to the television. On the raggedy loveseat sat Pippa and Philomela Gluksburg, Penny's inseparable seven-year-old twins. Alexander sat by himself on the floor closest to the TV. On the other couch sat Patience Torres, Patricia's five-year-old little girl, Paxton Zane and Phebe Halifax, two of Payton's daughters. Paxton was eight, and Phebe only six. Payton's oldest daughter, Peggy Halifax, was not in the room. She was most likely with her grandaunt helping in the kitchen or trying to find David. She had a small crush on the boy.

"Breakfast is in the kitchen," said Phoebe, slipping passed him.

"Thanks, Phoebe."

Anakin waited a moment longer in the entranceway. These were all members of his family the other him had never gotten to know. For all the horrors his family had been put through, seeing the next generation enjoying life made it all worth it. A smile pulled on his lips as he made his way into the cramped kitchen. Most of the adults had gathered in the far too small room.

Coop stood to the side with Henry and Paige. All three had a small paper plate in one hand filled with a selection of fruits and a piece of toast. His mother hovered over the stove top, cooking pancakes with the help of Peggy as he had predicted. Prue was talking to Chris near the back door. Their spouses, Kyle and Serena, were standing on the sidelines of the clearly heated discussion.

Phoebe and Coops three daughters were filing around the single kitchen island picking out breakfast items along. Paisley, the oldest, was the laughing at something the youngest, Payton, was saying. Patricia was whispering something into her husband's ear. Nathan Torres was a well-built, African American ex-Navy SEAL. He was pleasant enough and told fascinating stories from his time in the service. Behind him stood a more familiar face. Mitchel Halifax had been Chris's roommate during college. Anakin had met the man a few times before his death and liked him. Mitchel and Payton had a rocky relationship, but he finally asked Payton to marry him a month ago.

Paige's twins and George Gluksburg completed the collection of people in the room. Penelope had met George during her time working at the US embassy in Athens. She had been assigned as his translator, not that he had needed one. He spoke perfect English. Pyrrha was too married to her work and research to get married. She had her occasional flings, but none of them stuck around very long. Nevertheless, she was very happy with her lot in life until the latest turn of events.

Anakin joined the queue for breakfast despite not feeling hungry. His stomach was in knots at the thought of facing Wyatt and Sarah. He had yet to come up with a story to tell them. The truth would have been the most obvious choice until Uriel's visit in the bathroom. He did not want his family getting any more caught up in the warring of the Power's than they absolutely had to be. He could not tell them the truth, at least not the whole truth.

"Morning, Anakin. How's the head?" asked Paisley, noticing his arrival.

Anakin shrugged. "I've survived worse."

Patricia chuckled. "I'd keep that quiet. Wyatt was fuming last night."

"Yeah, I've not seen him this furious in a long time. He had things rattling off shelves most of the night," commented Payton.

Mitchel grinned. "That was Wyatt? I thought that was Matt and his girlfriend."

Payton reached around Nathan and hit her husband on he back of his head. "They're only fifteen!"

"You're the one that said it was true love," said Mitchel before jumping behind Anakin for some protection.

Payton shook her head. "Love! Yes, I said love. That does not mean sex, Mitchel!"

Nathan spoke up, eyeing the three sisters. "There's very little difference for a teenage boy."

Patricia glared at her husband. "Regardless, it is none of our business, and you two will leave them alone. I won't stand for your teasing."

"Aw, you know it's all in good fun, babe," whined Nathan.

Anakin chortled, gaining the attention of the whole group. He gulped. "What?"

Paisley picked up her plate, preparing to leave. "It's good to know you can still laugh, Annie."

She left, and the rest of the group followed. Anakin ran a hand through his hair nervously. He dished some fruit salad onto a plate and tried to sneak out of the room. Unfortunately, Serena caught up with him before he accomplished his goal.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she hugged him tightly.

Anakin awkwardly hugged her back with one arm. "The kitchen is a bit crowded."

Serena cocked an eyebrow. "So? You were never one to be claustrophobic especially around your family. Come on, and join us. I wanted to thank you for saving Matt, and Chris needs to do the same."

"Ser, it really was nothing," said Anakin, resisting her subtle tugging.

Serena huffed. "Look, I can't stand this whole avoiding thing you've got with your brothers. They're your family. I'd like to have one breakfast with my husband and best friend together. God knows how long I've got before the princess awakens and demands all of my attention."

Anakin gave in and allowed himself to be pulled back toward his sister and brother. Kyle gave him a warm enough smile and patted him on the back. Anakin bobbed his head by way of a greeting. Prue gave him the cold shoulder and ignored him. Anakin noticed Chris's hands ball into fists.

"There'll be none of that," snapped Serena at her husband. "He rescued Matt. Thank him."

"Thanks," said Chris gruffly.

Anakin half-smiled. "Anytime."

Serena made a disapproving sound. "So, we were just talking about the bombings in Lisbon."

"What were you saying?" asked Anakin, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Henry was there, wasn't he?" asked Prue.

Anakin nodded. "Last I heard. He was stationed in Rota, Spain, but the little data I have suggested he had been spending most of his time in and around Lisbon. Of course, there's been very little information since the explosion at the hospital a few months ago."

"Why aren't we out there looking for him?" interrogated Prue. "Why are we leaving him out there alone?"

"Because, we have no idea where to start looking. Adelrich has asked his contacts in Europe to keep a look out for him. I haven't sensed him at all since I've returned. If I had an inkling on his whereabouts I'd be out there in a heartbeat, Prue. Going off, half-cocked, is not a good idea. We're public enemy number one for both mortals and Lucifer. Our every move has to be precisely planned and coordinated. It's our only hope of staying alive," said Anakin calmly.

Prue cracked her knuckles. "Is that what you told Paige? What about Pyrrha and Penny? Did they buy your analytical approach to whether saving their brother is worth our time?"

Anakin felt his power rising. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his thoughts. Uriel was right. He needed to learn to control his emotions better. "This isn't easy for me, Prue. Do you really think I don't want to be out there looking for him? Of course, I do! He is one of my cousins!"

"Just like Zach is your nephew!" shot back Prue.

"Going after Zach would have meant risking Matt's life. Is that what you wanted me to do? I could have saved Zach, yesterday. That's what you're thinking, and you're right. I could have saved Zach. The cost would have been Wyatt and Matt's lives, but I could have done it. I could have trapped Lucifer by sacrificing my brother and nephew. Is that what you want? Could you live with that?"

Prue gulped and looked away.

Serena touched his forearm. "Annie, your eyes."

Anakin shook his head. "Everything has a price. Every move we make is going to cost us. I chose to save Wyatt and Matt in the hopes that I'd get another chance to rescue Zach."

Piper spoke up using her stern mother tone with her hands on her hips. "That's enough, both of you."

Anakin bit his tongue. "Sorry, Mom." He orbed out of the room.

* * *

Matthew sat at the edge of his bed staring down into the sleeping face of his baby sister. Parker Michelle Halliwell was only three weeks old and somehow had captured the heart of every member of the Halliwell clan. He had only met her a few minutes ago and already knew he would do anything to protect her from the world. She was the one good thing to come out of the whirlwind of news he had been bombarded by following his rescue. Michael's death was still an open wound on his heart. He had yet to see Richard, and he had no idea what he would say to his cousin when he did. Zach's continued imprisonment also weighed heavily on him. He had gotten Michael killed in his attempt to rescue Zach. So he hid from the world and watched his baby sister sleep in his arms.

"You look very sexy with a baby in your arms," commented Sophia from across the room.

She was busy writing a letter to Rebecca. On a weekly basis, someone left the Compound and delivered any mail to the local post office in town. They also collected any mail for the various occupants of the secluded property. Today was the day of the mail run. She insisted on finishing the letter before it was too late to send. Her doggedness had saved them a very embarrassing encounter with his mother when she had arrived to introduce Matt to Parker.

Matt glanced up and smirked. "Don't get any idea. We're still technically in high school."

Sophia laughed. "I'm in no rush to start a family, Matthew. I'm just saying you'll be an amazing dad."

"I'm not so sure. Everything I decide to do tends to turn things to shit," mumbled Matt.

Sophia folded up her note and stuffed it into an already addressed envelope. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Mike's death wasn't your fault, and neither is Zach's situation."

Matt shrugged and shifted his sister into a more comfortable carrying position. He stood up, letting the bed sheets fall away. "Who picked out the Star Wars pajamas?"

"We borrowed them from Anakin. I think Paisley bought them as a joke."

Matt laughed hollowly. "I hope Anakin finds it funny."

Sophia shrugged. "I wouldn't know. He's hardly ever here. I think I've spoken four words to him the whole time I've been here. Most of those were to point him in the direction of my father."

"Does your father know you spent the night with me?" asked Matt, rocking Parker from side to side. She was starting to fuss.

Sophia joined him and kissed him in the crook of his neck. "My father is on some mission. He's only due back at the end of the week."

"Why isn't Rebecca here, again?" he asked, closing his eyes as she continued to place kisses up his neck.

Sophia stopped and sighed. "I told you. She—she just didn't want to come."

"But why not? It's not like my family would have abandoned her family in the city."

"No. It wasn't anything to do with her family. I actually don't think she knows where her family is at the moment."

"So she's not with them?"

Sophia shook her head. "No."

"Then where is she? Everyone else is here. Kenny, Beth, Andrew, and Danny. Why'd she stay behind?"

"Matt, it was her choice. She chose to stay behind. Well, not behind exactly, she's not in the city anymore. She moved back down to LA with some of her old friends."

Parker started to cry.

"Um, now what?" asked Matt slightly startled at the volume.

Serena appeared as if summoned by the crying. "Here, it's her feeding time. You should go have a shower, Matt. Diana is leaving in a few minutes. She just called to make sure she has all our mail."

"Ok, I'll run this down to her then. Thanks, Mrs. Halliwell." Sophia kissed Matt on the cheek and left.

Matt looked at his mother. She smiled. "I'm glad you're safe, Matt."

"Me too, Mom."

"I don't want to be a grandmother just yet, though. Try and keep the night long visits to just talking and sleeping."

Matt groaned. "Mother!"

Serena smiled. "Oh, and there are condoms in the bedside table if temptation is too much."

"Out! Please."

Matt closed the door, and blue orbs descended from the roof. Anakin appeared out of the orbs covered in soot and ash. He held a glowing sword, which he banished with a flick of his hand. He spotted Matthew and froze.

"Sorry," he said coming out of his momentary daze. "I must have misjudged my coordinates."

Matt gulped and nodded slowly. "No—no worries."

Anakin licked his lips. "I'm Anakin, your long dead uncle. It's a pleasure to meet you, Matthew."

Matt took the offered hand and shook it. "I—I know. Er—um—thanks for the—you know—the rescue."

Anakin smiled kindly. "Of course, anything for family. How are you doing? Did your dad or Wy manage to heal everything?"

Matt stared at the legendary Anakin Halliwell at a loss for words. He had grown up on stories of Anakin's accomplishments and final sacrifice. The man had become something of a superhero and idol in his mind over the years. He had never imagined he would meet Anakin in the flesh, yet here he was standing in his bedroom. Matt suddenly became keenly aware he was shirtless and wearing Star Wars pajama bottoms.

"I see the Star Wars theme extended beyond just my bedroom attire," said Anakin.

"Actually they're yours," gulped Matt.

Anakin's lips formed a perfect O. "Right, I've got to find out who bought them for me and thank them."

"It was Paisley, I think."

Anakin chuckled merrily. "I should have known. She always liked to remind me where my name came from. Personally, I think she was just jealous, but we'll keep that between the two of us."

Matt laughed stiffly. "Ok. Er—I—I was…"

"I'm keeping you from something? Don't mind me then. Carry on. I'll take my leave."

"No!"

Anakin paused with his hand on the doorknob.

Matt cleared his throat. "I—I wanted to talk to you about—um—stuff."

Anakin turned around. "Yeah? What stuff?"

"Stuff, you know, stuff from—from the time I was—er—captured," said Matt stumbling over his words.

"Don't you want to talk to your dad about that stuff?"

Matt fiddled with his fingers. "I—uh—well, yeah, I do. Of course, I do. I just—I need to tell you too. I need to tell all of you."

Anakin nodded in understanding. "Well, why don't I gather everyone while you jump through the shower. Is there anyone besides the usual ones you want there?"

"Can—can you get my friends as well?"

Anakin pondered the request for a moment. "If you want them there."

Matt stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pajama shorts. "Yeah. They deserve to hear it as well."

Anakin opened the door without turning around. "We'll be waiting in the living room then."

"Thanks," called Matt at the retreating back of his uncle.

After Wyatt had punched Anakin the night before, everyone had been too excited to see him to ask him questions. His mother had also quickly ushered him upstairs, saving from the eventual interrogation. He knew eventually the questions would come. The sooner he got them out of the way, the sooner they could focus on rescuing Zach. Nothing was more important than saving Zach.

All too soon, he was making his way downstairs and into the living room. He only vaguely remembered the room from the night before, but it felt more cramped. He swore there were a half a dozen more couches and chairs than the night before. No one under the age of fourteen was in the room. He wondered where the younger kids were and noticed his grandmother was also missing. He frowned and caught his father's eye. Chris beckoned him into the room, and the various conversations died away.

"Where's Grandma?" asked Matt.

"She's watching the little ones play tag in the garden. How are you feeling, Matt?" asked his father.

Matt steeled himself and nodded. "I'm fine, Dad."

"You don't have to do this."

Anakin cleared his throat from near the fireplace where two seats were open. Chris glared at him.

"I'm ok. Really, this was my idea."

Matt made his way up to the empty chairs. His father followed him, leaving his mother alone, holding a sleeping Parker in her arms. Anakin squeezed his shoulder and took a seat beside Paisley and Phoebe. He looked out across the room at the many faces of his family. Most of them were little more than strangers to him. He knew their names and recognized faces from photos and Christmas cards, but he did not know them. He wished, not for the first time, it was Zach and not he doing the explanation. His oldest cousin may be the quiet one, but he came alive in front of an audience. He commanded a respect that Matt knew he could never accomplish.

"Right, so, um, I'm Matt for those of you wondering."

A soft snigger traveled through the room. Many gave him encouraging smiles. Andrew gave him a thumbs up, and Kenny rolled his eyes when Matt caught his attention. Matt grinned inwardly and took a steading inhalation. He exhaled slowly and loosened his grip on his father's hand. He had not realized he was holding hands. His cheeks reddened.

"I, ah, asked all of you to, um, come here. There is, ah—um, a lot I have to say. All I ask is you let me get through my story before you ask questions. I'll do my best to answer them, but—er—there's a lot of it that's a blur to me. Most of it was a horrible nightmare. The fear is still there, but the details have faded. Does that make sense?"

His dad answered his rhetorical question. "You're doing great."

Matt rubbed his hands together and shook them out to rid himself of the jitters. "So I'm assuming you've all been told about what happened when we tried to rescue Zach from Rahab and Tiamat. I won't rehash the details. There's no point. After Lucifer returned and transported us away, we landed up in some part of the Underworld. I don't know which part. It all looked the same to me. It was some dark and gloomy cavern. Lucifer bound me with ropes and tossed me aside like a bag of used clothes. He cleaned Zach up and vanished with him."

Wyatt moved and opened his mouth, but Chris silenced him.

Matt bit his lip. "I don't know where they went, and I never saw Zach again. The cave I was in did not have any entrance or exit. I tried orbing, but I guess it was warded. I don't know how long I was left in that room, but by the time the two demons showed up to collect me I was too weak from hunger and thirst to put up a fight. They took me to a room made of some type of shiny black rock. It was carved out of the rock or something. In the center of it stood a throne. It wasn't spectacular or awe-inspiring; it was a simple straight-backed throne. Lucifer stood beside it. He looked more put together than the last time I saw him."

"He offered me a position of power and comforts I could only dream of. He told me I could save my family any more heartache and pain. Then he conjured a banquet fit for kings and let me eat in peace. I ate until I thought I was going to puke. I was too hungry to turn it down. When he returned he brought with him, two girls. He smiled and whispered in my ear. I can't remember the exact words, but the gist of it was I could choose a girl or both of them."

He met Sophia's hurt gaze and shook his head.

"But I turned him down. I knew there'd be a catch. You don't make a deal with the devil without him getting the better of you. I told him to fuck off. He laughed off my words and dismissed the girls. He conjured another chair of sorts. This chair was not made to be simply uncomfortable. I could see it was made to torture. He waved his hand, and I found myself in the chair. I tried to get up, but chains made of razor sharp wire wrapped around my ankles and wrists. The wires cut into my skin. I refused to yell out."

"I could tell he was not pleased with my choice. His eyes burned red and had swirling flecks of black and gold throughout. It was terrifying to behold. When those eyes met mine all the fight in me drained away. All that I felt was absolute terror like I was a mouse caught in the eye line of a very hungry cat. Even the pain from where the chains were digging into me faded away. It was horrible."

Chris gripped his hand again and squeezed it. Matt was thankful for the connection to reality. Even thinking about the few seconds he was under Lucifer's gaze made his legs tremble. He wisely chose to sit down.

"Lucifer banished the chair with me in it. The chair became my new prison. I was put on display in a courtyard. Demons and other things walked passed and mocked my torment. For days and weeks on end that was my life. Once in a while, a girl with some strange marking on her arm would sneak me some food. The things that weren't demons would take turns forcing me to drink some deep amber bitter concoction. It tasted like crap, but it sustained me. I don't know if that was a mercy, though; because, it kept me coherent enough to experience the constant pain the chair inflicted."

Matt felt the anger pour off his family members. The room was at a tipping point. He could feel the energy begging for a release point. The smell was almost intoxicating.

"Then one day one of those things released me from the chair. She threw me to the ground, and vines kept me pinned down. She dismantled the chair until only the thick metal cords and thin razor wires remained. I watched helplessly as she reattached the wires and dragged me behind her into a wooden shed. She strung me up from the roof. I must have angered her somehow, probably mouthed off. She smashed the butt of an athame into the base of my skull, knocking me out. Unconsciousness was a blessing, though. I had not slept long than a few minutes for what felt like months."

" I woke up in the middle of a coughing fit. The burning pain in my shoulders and hips kept me from fading back into unconsciousness. Brief sparks of renewed agony shot down my arms and up my legs. The floor beneath me was reflective enough for me to see a reflection of myself for the first time in months. I looked horrible. Dried blood caked my skin, and dust covered the rest. I must have thrown up in my sleep. The smell was putrid."

"I could tell I was mounted from some sort of rack installed into the shack's ceiling. The razor wires wrapped around my ankles, thighs, and wrists. It was just enough to keep them from completely severing my hands and feet from my body. Still, fresh blood dribbled from the new cuts at the pressure points. The not demon was also smart enough to hang me in such a fashion that I was helpless. Every joint was pulled to its absolute breaking point. If I shifted a little too much I'd tear my shoulders or hips to shreds."

Matthew spoke in a monotonous tone as his story progressed. He was disconnected from the events. It felt like they had happened to someone else. All he had to do was look at his wrists to see the person he spoke about was, in fact, him. He rubbed his fingers over the scars subconsciously.

"I would have been able to see nothing at all, but the door to the shack had been left open. The light from the flowing magma was enough to start make things out. Something of a war was occurring outside in the courtyard. I began to hope that maybe someone had come to rescue me. The contraption must've sensed my hope because it yanked back hard on my restraints. The pain sharpened dramatically in my shoulders, erasing any thought of rescue from my mind. My world shrank back to my constant pain."

"The sounds of the battle, though, were difficult to ignore, and I'm not one to give up without a fight. I tried to pull at my restraints. They held firm. I reached deep inside myself and touched the part of my soul connected to magic. The device twisted my arms and the resulting pain nibbled away at my concentration. I tried to let the pain bleed away through the meditation techniques we were taught. The thing twisted harder, and something in my shoulders ground against bone. The pain spiked to the point I almost blacked out."

"I gasped and cried out. There was no one to try and impress, and I could not help it. The pain was too much. It was gnawing away at my sanity. I felt myself slowly turning into a rabid animal without any hope or sense of self. The device relaxed slightly, easing some of the pain. At first, I thought I had overloaded its abilities, but I'm never that lucky. Some insectoid creature had entered the building and adjusted the settings on the device."

A shiver swept through the entranced audience.

"The demon resembled a gigantic centipede. It scuttled about on a thousand slender legs. It had four large appendages nearer the front of its body. They were all raised in the air and covered in thick gray fur. Three stalks erupted out of its head and ended in three compound eyes. Each eye moved independently of the rest. Panic rose up inside of me as the thing approached."

His mother quivered in her seat. She too shared his aversion of insects and spiders.

"On the shelf near the door, I spotted an athame lying beside a few other weapons I did not recognize. I tried to summon the athame with my telekinesis. I knew I didn't have a hope of directing the blade with any accuracy, but I prayed I could pull it to me with enough force to crush the creature's head. With it dead, I could focus on trying to escape. The athame quivered on the shelf but didn't move. It was exhausting. I was tired and sleep deprived, and there was this creature distracting me. I felt true despair at that moment, knowing I was beyond help or hope."

Everyone in the room was dead silent and still. Even baby Parker was not moving.

"The creature moved closer and my stomach wrapped itself in knots. It came to a stop directly below my face. Two of its appendages reached up. The ends of them transformed into pincers. I tried to pull away, but it was too quick. It caught hold of my ear lobe and lip. It pulled my head down in reach of its other limbs. One of the fur covered appendages slapped against my throat. Lighting agony slashed across my neck. The device lowered me further to the ground. I tried to scream, but the pain paralyzed my vocal chords."

"It clicked and clattered to itself as it drove its final free and furry appendage down my throat. It left it there for a moment before withdrawing. Colors flashed along its exoskeleton, and a small round chalky pebble grew out of its back. It released my lip and used the pincer to cut a hole in my cheek. It collected the pebble with the same pincer and stuffed it into the wound. The cut heated up, and the pebble melted away."

"I renewed my efforts to try and summon the athame. I pushed past the pain, but I never felt the familiar warmth I associate with using my powers. I cursed and redoubled my focus. The athame rattled against its resting place. The demon released my ear and retreated to the doorway, but I ignored its progress. The athame wobbled more intensely before rising into the air. Joy surged through me as it continued to drift higher off the shelf. The joy was squashed when it went flying out of the door."

Matt choked on his words.

"I lost it. The creature had vanished; its task finished. The battle outside took on a different tone. Magic rocked and battered against the wooden shack. The door slammed shut, blocking out sound and light. I waited in the darkness, straining to hear anything. Suddenly the door burst open, and Wy stood in the doorway…"

"That's enough, Matt," said Anakin softly.

He glanced over at his father who nodded, and he closed his mouth.

"What was that thing?" asked Pyrrha.

Anakin stood up, taking the attention off him. He was thankful to his uncle. "It was a relative of gorogs. They served as battlefield medics for demons and alike."

"It's a medic?" inquired Penelope.

"To a certain extent, yes. All insectoid demons are simple and have one-track minds. Gorog is a killer and an assassin. Saras are even simpler. They were designed to take care of the injured by making sure they do not die. They do not heal or tend to injuries, but they will ensure you live through the injuries. The pebble was a collection of nutrients," explained Anakin.

"So it didn't poison Matt?" asked Serena.

Anakin shook his head. "I don't believe so, and any poison it could carry and use in such a fashion would have been eradicated when Matt was healed."

"What about a tracking beacon?" asked Nathan. "It sounded like they knew you and Wyatt were preparing to rescue Matt when they moved him into the shack. They could have used this Sar-thingy to implant a tracking device."

Anakin frowned. "Possible, but unlikely. Lucifer knows exactly where we are. No amount of spells and enchantments can keep us hidden from him. It's one of his many gifts."

"So you never saw Zach after the first day?" asked Sarah from beside Wyatt.

Matt wished he had better news for his aunt. "No. I'm sorry. Wherever he kept Zach, it wasn't anywhere I could sense him."

"He'd keep Zach close to him," said Anakin. "He can't trust Zach with anyone else."

Wyatt stirred. "Why? What does he want with our son?"

Anakin bit his lip. "He wants Zach to complete his part in his plan."

"Which is what?"

Anakin glanced over at the group of teenagers. Uriel would kill him for what he was about to do. He also knew for the first time since his return exactly what he needed to do at that particular point in time. There was no other choice to be made.

"Before the prophecy about the Charmed Ones there was the prophecy of the Twice-Blessed. Everyone thought it was the first prophecy made, but there was another far more ancient one. It was made by the first witch to walk this earth back when the Garden was still young. No one was there to bear witness to the prophecy, and the witch never remembered making it. Only there were two who heard the prophecy from a great distance. One was Lucifer, and he used his knowledge of it to trick the woman into eating from a forbidden tree. The other was Uriel."

Wyatt held up his hand. "Wait, hold up. You're telling me that the Garden of Eden was a real thing?"

Anakin nodded. "It was the first and greatest of the various portals to the Heavenly Plane, the plane where the Powers are originally from. The areas of the world where ley lines converge are thought to be other portals to the Divine. The prophecy spoke of a witch, a very powerful witch born from a union of two great powers. This person would be capable of ending the greatest of all battles, the one between Good and Evil. He or she would bring about the end of the Grand Design and usher in a new order of peace."

Conversations and whispers exploded through the room.

"And this person is Zach?"

Anakin offered up a noncommittal gesture. "It could be Zach. You and Sarah are both descended from great powers. It could also be you or me or Chris or Prue. We are all the result of Charmed blood mixing with Elder magic even if Dad was not an Elder at the time. Uriel put his bet on it being I after I was able to vanquish Aeglaeca. Lucifer thinks it's Zach."

"But what does he want with Zach?"

"The prophecy is vague on how the person will bring about an end to the Grand Design. There are two options. One is bringing the Devine to this plane. The other is cutting off the Devine from this realm. Lucifer is going for the second. He has already destroyed the Garden. Most of the other portals are under his control. It takes an act of great evil to severe the connection, and we all know he is more than capable of doing exactly that. He will be able to close all but the last great portal. It is this portal he will need Zach to close."

Sarah frowned. "But Zach—Zach's good. He won't do something evil. Will he?"

Wyatt agreed with Sarah. "He's a good boy."

"I know he's a good boy, but even good is capable of doing evil. Look at what you and Chris did to save him last year. By summoning Uriel to save him, you created the fractures in reality Lucifer used to return to this plane and escape the Cage. What would Zach do to save someone he loves? What would any of us do? I broke the fabric of time to save my family. None of us are guiltless in our use of power. We've all been more than a little bit selfish."

Chris stood up. "Are you blaming us?"

Anakin laughed loudly. "Blaming you for what? For doing what you thought was good and right? For protecting those you love? How could anyone blame someone for doing that? This has nothing to do with blame. It is simply the facts of magic. There is always a price."

Pyrrha spoke up. "How do we stop Lucifer?"

"Lucifer can only be stopped by another Power. Only a Power can kill another Power. That has always been true. Even with Aeglaeca, what I did was something only a Power was capable of doing. It's why it destroyed me."

"So why doesn't Uriel stop Lucifer? He's all about protecting the Grand Design," said Prue accusatorily.

Matt watched as everyone slowly turned on Anakin. He was the messenger with bad news, and they needed someone to focus their fear and anger. He slipped off his seat and walked over to his friends. They pulled him into a group hug, ignoring the argument roaring around them. Prophecy or no prophecy it did not matter. They needed to get Zach back. Unnoticed by the warring adults, the somber group of teens slunk out of the room and outside.

Piper spotted them. "All done, already?"

Matt shook his head. "They're still talking. We just needed some air."

Sophia wrapped a protective arm around his waist. "We can look after the kids if you want to join them, Piper."

Piper patted her on the top of her head. "Thanks, Sophie, I think I will before my kids rip each other's heads off."

"How are you doing?" asked Sophia as soon as Piper left.

Matt shrugged. Something he had been doing a lot of lately. "I don't know. You know how they say that it's a relief when you finally tell someone all the bad stuff that happened to you? Maybe, it comes with time or something. All I feel is numb and tired and worried about Zach." He paused and looked around the group. "Where's Rick?"

Kenny answered, "He's still in his room. He doesn't do family gatherings. He doesn't do much of anything, honestly. We take turns visiting him, but he never talks to us. I don't know if he even knows we're there."

"He knows," said Andrew. "Believe me, he knows."

Daniel draped an arm over his boyfriend's shoulders. "I can't imagine everything you went through, man, but we're glad you're back."

"Yeah," said Kenny, "it was getting boring here without you. Your cousins aren't nearly as easy to rile up as you are."

Matt flipped him off and laughed. "Thanks, guys."

The groups drifted off into silence as they watched the sun disappear beneath the horizon. Another day was over, and they were all still alive. In the world they lived, that was something to be celebrated, and they all knew it.

* * *

AN: So what did you think? Leave a review and let me know, please and thank you. This chapter had a lot of family drama. The next one will have a little bit more action. A huge thank you to those of you who left a review here or emailed me your thoughts on the previous chapter. It is what keeps me going. I'm hoping this month is lighter in terms of school and work, leaving more time to write. I'll leave you with my master list of Halliwells starting with the original Charmed Ones.

 **Halliwell Clan**

 **1.** Leo Wyatt – Brian Kruse- Powers: none, was a mortal at the time of his death  
Piper Halliwell - Holly Marie Combs- Powers: molecular immobilization, molecular combustion, molecular acceleration

Wyatt Matthew Halliwell - Wes Ramsey - Powers: molecular combustion, molecular immobilization, telekinesis, energy transmutation, energy balls, conjuring, projection, shield, orbing, sensing, energy wave, glimmering, and healing  
Sarah Ingerman Halliwell - Michaela Conlin - Powers: shaman, visions, telekinesis, shapeshifting, limited elemental control  
Zach Taylor Halliwell - Bryson Bourchier - Powers: molecular combustion, molecular immobilization, telekinesis, conjuring, projection, lightning, orbing, sensing, healing, shapeshifting, spirit projection  
Pax Leonie Halliwell - ? - Powers: molecular immobilization, orbing, sensing, astral projection

Chris Perry Halliwell - Drew Fuller - Powers: telekinesis, molecular immobilization, molecular combustion, orbing, sensing, premonitions (rare), empathy, telepathy, lightning, healing  
Serena Capell - Blake Lively - Powers: none  
Matthew Anakin Halliwell - Mac Harmon - Powers: telekinesis, conjuring, orbing, sensing, healing  
Parker Michelle Halliwell - ? - Powers: none, eventually orbing, sensing, telekinesis, empathy

Prue Melanie Brooks - Jojo - Powers: conjuring, orbing, sensing, molecular immobilization, molecular combustion, energy balls, empathy, glamouring, healing (less powerful than her brothers' healing)  
Kyle Brooks - Thomas Dekker - Powers: none  
Richard John Brooks - Finn Harries - Powers: molecular immobilization, empathy, orbing, premonitions, deflection  
Michael Leonardo Brooks - Jack Harries - Powers: premonitions, telepathy, orbing

Anakin Pearson Halliwell - Chace Crawford - Powers: Molecular immobilization, molecular combustion, telekinesis, lightning, energy balls, empathy, premonitions, telepathy, conjuring, projection, orbing, healing, sensing, energy waves, energy transmutation, Holy Fire, pure magical manipulation

Coop Love - Victor Webster - Powers: Cupid's ring, beaming, sensing, empathy, holograms, suggestion, telekinesis, temporal stasis  
Phoebe Love - Alyssa Milano - Powers: premonitions, empathy, levitation, psychic reflection

Paisley Julia Love - Emmy Rossum - Powers: empathy, premonition, levitation, beaming, psychic reflection  
Anton Popov - Jack Laugher - Powers: none  
Alexander Gordon Love - Corey Fogelmanis - Powers: levitation, limited empathy, beaming

Patricia Moore Torres - Emma Watson - Powers: Cupid's ring, firestarter, beaming, temporal stasis, sensing, holograms, suggestion  
Nathan Torres - John Boyega - Powers: none  
Patience Jordan Torres - Skai Jackson - Powers: firestarter

Payton Emily Love - Dani Thorne - Powers: telepathy, beaming telekinesis  
Robert Zane - Wendell Pierce - Powers: none  
Paxton Zane - Eve De Leon Allen - Powers: telepathy, beaming  
Mitchel Halifax - Aaron Tveit - Powers: squib  
Peggy Halifax - Bailee Madison - Powers: telekinesis, beaming, temporal stasis, accidental magic  
Phebe Halifax - Ella Anderson - Powers: accidental magic, beaming, empathy

Henry Mitchell - Ivan Sergei - Powers: none  
Paige Matthews - Rose McGowan - Powers: orbing, orbing telekinesis, healing, sensing, photokinesis, hovering, cloaking

Penelope Brennan Mitchell - Italia Ricci - Powers: healing, orbing, sensing, orbing telekinesis, twin telepathy  
George Gluksburg - Hugo Becker - Powers: none  
Pippa Gluksburg - Addison Riecke - Powers: orbing, twin telepathy, molecular acceleration  
Philomela Gluksburg - Addison Riecke - Powers: orbing, twin telepathy, molecular deceleration

Pyrrha Temperance Mitchell - Bonnie Wright - Powers: healing, sensing, telekinesis, orbing telekinesis, twin telepathy, glamouring, cloaking, photokinesis, hovering

Henry Ivan Mitchell - Logan Lerman - Powers: healing, orbing, sensing, orbing telekinesis, magic negation  
Catia Santos - Carly Rae Jepsen - Powers: none  
Ivan Mitchell - ? - Powers: orbing

So I threw in a few spoilers in that list for those of you who read it.


	3. A King Under Your Control

AN: Here is another chapter. I'm dedicating it to ACharmedLover as a thank you for his help with the chapter.

* * *

A KING UNDER YOUR CONTROL

One of the numerous faceless and nameless demon guards dragged him through the massive black iron doors into a round stone room. A massive fire in the center surrounded by polished obsidian lit the room. The walls were covered in furs and skins of creatures Zach did not recognize. The room lacked any form of furniture, save for a white marble throne. His escort threw him down on the ground in front of the throne. His bare skin burned against the icy black floor.

"Now, now, we do not treat guests like that," admonished Lucifer from the throne.

Zach shut his eyes as his usher erupted in blinding flames.

"Arise, Zachary," commanded Lucifer in a sultry tone.

Zach bit his tongue and remained prostrate where he had landed. He heard clothes rustle and the soft thumps of footsteps. A smooth but powerful hand took hold of his left shoulder and lifted him up. Zach blinked and met the cold electric blue eyes of his captor. Lucifer set him gently on his feet. Zach started to breathe out when the short fallen angel backhanded him across the face. The strike nearly snapped his neck, and he fell back to the floor. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

Lucifer crossed his arms and tapped his toe impatiently. "Arise, Zachary."

Zach crawled onto his hands and knees, hissing. Every move caused more of his skin to ripped off. He spat out a mouthful of blood and watched it turn to red ice the moment it touched the floor. Ice crystals formed in every puff of breath. Zach pushed himself to his knees and defiantly glared up at Lucifer.

"You won't break me."

Lucifer grinned, revealing perfectly straight teeth. His eyes returned to their human green-brown. "What makes you think I am trying to break you, Zachary?"

Zach stood up, fully aware the ragged remains of his underwear did little to cover him up. "Why else keep me alive?"

Lucifer cocked his head to one side. "A curious question. Most people would simply be happy that they are alive. Do you not wish to be? That is a dilemma many of my subjects would happily rectify."

Zach balled his hands into tight fists. "Where's Matt?"

Lucifer started to circle the witch, running his eyes up and down the naked, bruised, and battered body. "I would not concern yourself with the wellbeing of your cousin. We must first discover your place in the world."

Zach twisted to keep the predatory angel in his sights. "Where is he?"

Lucifer sighed dramatically and snapped his finger. A glass bowl, filled with a dark yet luminescent liquid, rose out of thin air and floated over to the two men. It came to rest in the center of the two. Lucifer pulled out a vial of pale yellow powder from one of his navy suit's jacket pockets. He sprinkled the contents on top of the liquid. The surface shimmered briefly before turning into an inverted image of a small boy lying on the rough ground. Thick metal chains bound him to the wall. The imaged zoomed in and Zach recognized the face at once despite the horribly swollen right eye and missing left ear.

"You bastard!" yelled Zach and forgetting everything took a swing at Lucifer.

Lucifer easily stopped his fist with his hand. The evil Power tightened his grip on the witch's fist. Several pops echoed through the room over the crackling of the fire. Zach screamed in agony. Lucifer let go, and instinctually Zach cradled the destroyed hand against his chest. The twisted and mangled stump had already started to swell and turn a bitter purple.

Lucifer dismissed the bowel and continued his circling. "I can be a very reasonable man, Zachary. I truly detest inflicting pain when it is not warranted, but I will not hesitate to crush those who oppose my will."

Zach, tears running down his cheeks, took a deep breath. "Go fuck yourself."

Lucifer chuckled in his rich warm voice. "Unfortunately even I cannot gift myself with such envious skills. Perhaps, I'll take you up on the offer on another date. For now, let us return to the reason you are here."

Lightheadedness swept over Zach. The pain, hunger, and thirst were getting to be too much.

Lucifer waved his hand and a small table shimmered into the room laden down with platters of fruits, cheeses, and sliced meats. A variety of soft drinks and other colorful beverages took up a smaller section of the table. A simple wooden stool appeared next to Zach.

"Eat. Drink. I will summon a healer to see to your hand. Healing is a power our Creator saw fit to only grant to my more obedient brethren," said Lucifer kindly.

Zach eyed the food, and his stomach grumbled.

Lucifer picked up a rosy red apple and took a bite out of it. "I have not poisoned the food. I think we can both agree if I wanted you dead, you would be."

"I'm not hungry," said Zach through gritted teeth.

Lucifer heaved a sigh. "A blatant lie. There is nothing to be gained by being valiant, Zachary. You will need your strength and resolve in the coming days. There is a lot I wish to discuss with you, but you will be poor company if all you can hear is your own gnawing stomach."

A woman in a dark crimson cloak flamed into the room next to Lucifer. She bowed low. "You summoned me, my lord," she said in a high singsong voice.

Lucifer patted the petite demon on the shoulder as she straightened her back. "Agnodice, we have had a bit of a misunderstanding. See what you can do for our guest."

The demon approached Zach who shrank back. Agnodice rolled her glowing red eyes and caught hold of him with feline grace and speed. She grabbed his wrist and ignored his grunts of complaint as she pulled the injured hand toward her. With no mercy or compassion, she took hold on one misshapen finger and snapped it back into place. Zach shrieked and tried to free his hand, but she tightened her grip. Lucifer returned to his throne and watched the display with little interest. After correcting the fingers, she laid the hand on the table and started on the metacarpals.

"Will it be a full recovery?" queried Lucifer nonchalantly.

Agnodice flipped the hand over and examined it. "Most of the damage was dislocation. I counted only two fractures and one ruptured tendon. It will be tender for a few days, but yes, he should recover most of its function."

Lucifer clapped his hands once. "Excellent. Your payment is waiting for you outside. I made it clear, per your previous request, that the boys are to be unharmed."

Agnodice bowed low. "You are most generous, sire."

Lucifer waved her out of the room. He sat down on his throne. "Are we still not hungry?"

Zach, still cradling his hand, kicked the leg of the table hard enough to break it. Before the food or drinks could hit the floor, they vanished along with the table. The stool transformed into an iron chair with a collection of spikes running up and down the backrest. Lucifer flicked his finger, and Zach flew back into the chair. Thick metal chains sprang out of the ground and latched onto his wrists and ankles. The spikes broke his skin, and he felt thick sticky blood dribble down his back.

"Perhaps, you will need to be broken," growled Lucifer.

Zach returned the growl.

Lucifer rose up out of the throne. He strode over to the defenseless boy and bent down to be eye level. "I would admire your courage if it were not so foolish. You have seen my power. You witnessed the ease I can strip you pathetic mortals of your valued life, and I will let you in on a terrible secret. If I kill you, you do not get an afterlife. I devour your soul and use its energy to take the life of someone you hold dear. You would do well not to piss me off."

Zach spat in the demon's face.

Lucifer drew back his fist and slammed it into Zach's stomach. His hand turned into thick long talons. "Look at these."

Zach glared at him.

Lucifer held up his talons. "I took the life of your uncle's lover with this hand. Shall I do the same for you?"

Zach swallowed.

"Precious Rebecca is not as safe as you might think," said Lucifer rising back to his full height. "Your family's protections are not so great, not without the Power of Three."

"The Charmed Ones are still alive," hissed Zach.

Lucifer threw back his head and laughed. "Your grandmother and her two wrinkly sisters are nothing more than pesky flies I have yet to bother squashing. As for your father and uncle—well, they tried once, and yet here I am. Then there is the circle you are a part of. I highly doubt the one free member is in any shape to be casting a lighting spell let alone designing a web of wards strong enough to stop me. Like I said, the Power of Three is destroyed, and, without it, your family is no different than the billions of other mortals in this world."

Zach felt the sucking void of despair sinking into his soul, but he refused to let it show on his face. He stared at Lucifer defiantly. "Do your worst."

"Shall I summon young Matthew? I am feeling a bit peckish. How does fresh heart sound to you?" challenged Lucifer.

Zach paled. He had no doubt Lucifer would cut out Matt's heart right in front of him. Unlike the rest of his family and friends, Matt was well within the reach of the brown haired Power. He had to play for time without endangering his cousin.

"Why not cut out my heart?"

Lucifer chuckled. "You, my pet, are destined for far great things than being an unsatisfactory menu item. I have better plans for you. Eventually, you will bend to my will and listen to my advice. I can be very patient. Let us compromise for today. You will eat and drink something, and I will release you to your quarters for the remainder of the day. We can discuss things tomorrow."

Lucifer re-conjured the table of food and drink. Zach's stomach betrayed him and grumbled in response to the enticing smell. His chains fell away, and Lucifer stepped aside. Gingerly the teen stood up, feeling the sharp spikes of pain as his numerous wounds stretched with his movement. He felt lightheaded from the loss of blood and lack of energy. He needed sustenance if he was going to survive. A little bit of food and some orange juice would not kill him.

"Fine, but you're not to harm Matt either."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Matthew's fate is in his own hands. Eat and drink. I will tell the help to prepare your room. Shall I have some entertainment waiting for you as well?"

Zach frowned. "No. No, thank you."

Lucifer shrugged. "The girls will be very disappointed, but perhaps it is wise to take it easy. You are very weak."

Lucifer stepped and suddenly vanished, leaving Zach alone in the room. He picked out a plate of cheese and meats along with a cup of orange juice. Shivering he carried his meal over to the roaring fire. No sooner had he reached the fire than a comfortable armchair sprung out of the ground. He sat down and closed his eyes for a moment. Exhaustion rolled over him. He had no idea how long he had been imprisoned by Lucifer. He could only hope his family was safe and thinking of a way to rescue him. He did not want them to put themselves in danger for him, but he did not see another way he was escaping from this place. He took a bite of meat and sighed. The taste of real food was almost orgasmic.

Lucifer returned some time later followed by two demons. These were not the same breed as his usual guards. One was a muscular dark-skinned man with a nasty scar over his right eye. A birthmark in the shape of a bird outlined his bulging neck muscles. The other was a pale female with long blonde hair tied in a tight ponytail. She too had an avian birthmark but on her exposed shoulder.

"This is Hank and Camilla. They will escort you to your quarters. I would not bother getting to know them. They will not be your usual company. Unfortunately, she appears to have taken on a different assignment for a few days. Are you done eating?"

Zach sat up and studied the two Phoenix assassins. "Isn't babysitting beneath the skills of a Phoenix?"

Hank grunted and cracked his knuckles threateningly.

Camilla merely smiled. "We do as our lord commands."

Lucifer clapped his hand on Hanks massive shoulder. "I told you he had a mouth on him. Take him to his room, and do try to not kill him on the way. I will be by tomorrow at seven to take you to breakfast. I have heard of a wonderful little café in the city I think we should try. Try and be ready on time."

Hank grabbed hold of Zach by the arm and pulled him to his feet. He unceremoniously shoved the witch out in front of him and kicked him when Zach did not start walking. Hobbling slightly Zach started in the direction of the door. Camilla quickly took up point and led the way down a long corridor and then up an even longer flight of stairs. They arrived at the end of the stairs. A massive oak door lacking any form of handle blocked their path.

"Open it," growled Hank.

Zach reached out and touched the door. It sprang open of its own accord. He stepped into the room, and the door slammed shut, blocking the progress of his two guards. One of them, Hank Zach guessed, pounded on the door, but he ignored them. He took in the room. It was exactly like his own at the Manor down to the messy desk and framed photographs. He opened the closet and found it filled with clothes. Some were clothes he recognized, but there were also a dozen different suits and two different tuxedos. He also noticed that the dressed down part of his closet was mostly made up of more classy outfits. All of his shoes were dress shoes besides for a single set of black running shoes.

The bookshelf also had added elements to it on closer inspection. Along with the set of Harry Potter books and barely used schoolbooks, there were books on rituals and magic. A section underneath the window was laid out like a ceremonial area along with an ancient trunk to the side. He opened it up to find it filled with potion ingredients and other artifacts necessary for magical rituals. He looked out the window and was surprised to see San Francisco landed out before him. It was not the San Francisco he remembered. There were buildings missing and smoking rising into the night sky, but it was still his home. Exhaustion stemmed any further thought of exploration. He collapsed onto his bed and was out like a light before his head hit the pillow.

In the morning, he found an additional door next to the one he knew led to the staircase. This door opened into a bathroom he thought the king of England might feel comfortable in. The countertops were pure white marble and the fixtures gold. The shower had more nozzles in it than entirely necessary, but it made for a very interesting experience. He was pulling on the most casual outfit he could find in his closet when someone knocked on the door. For a moment, he thought about making Lucifer wait, but the image of Matt flashed in his mind.

Lucifer greeted him with a smile. "I hope you found everything to your liking. My minions were tasked with making the room as homely as possible."

Zach spotted Hank and Camilla standing on the stairs behind Lucifer. "Was Hank involved?"

"No, Hank's skills lie outside interior decorating. Are you ready?"

Zach turned around, showing off his outfit of an old and misshapen t-shirt and the most ripped pair of jeans he owned. "What do you think?"

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shit regained its former form. A few of the rips in the jeans repaired themselves, leaving behind only those rips made for a fashion statement. The Power nodded his approval. "I would prefer if you wore one of your suits when we go out in public, but I will accept baby steps. At least you are not still in your pajamas. Shall we?"

Zach looked down at Lucifer's extended hand. "You want me to touch that?"

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "A small inconvenience. I take no pleasure in having to touch you. If you wish I can have Hank shimmer you."

Zach took Lucifer's hand. The Power grinned in triumph, and the two flamed out. They reappeared in the middle of a street in the city. Lucifer pulled Zach out of the way of a speeding car before blowing the car up with a fire ball. People all around them screamed and ran for their lives. Lucifer ignored them and casually strolled onto the pavement and toward a small café. Zach followed behind him careful to not meet anyone's gaze. They entered the café and were seated by a shaking teenaged girl.

"What is your favorite breakfast meal? I have found that this new body has a craving for Denver omelets and black coffee. In the past, I enjoyed quiches or even lox and bagels. There is a lot that mortals lack, but they are artists when it comes to food," said Lucifer conversationally.

Zach licked his cracked lips. "Er—pancakes. I like my grandmother's pancakes."

Lucifer bobbed his head. "We will have to see if we can find a place that comes close to Piper Halliwell's pancakes then."

"Ar—are you—you ready?"

Lucifer smiled. "I'll have the seafood omelet and a cup of your strongest coffee, madam. Zachary?"

Zach checked the menu. "OJ and the country scramble with bacon."

"Sourdough ok for the toast?"

"Perfect," said Lucifer still grinning.

Zach nodded. The waitress dashed away from their table. "She's terrified. Why'd we come here?"

Lucifer shrugged again. "I thought you would enjoy a few moments off the island. As for our waitress, she has nothing to fear. I do not kill for sport or fun. There is no pleasure to be gained in the death of an innocent."

"You made me kill Michael," growled Zach.

"A necessary evil that I do regret. It was meant to be Peter's heart that powered the ritual, but Tiamat's foolishness put an end to that particular option. Michael was the next best option unless you wish it was Matthew."

Zach cowered at the thought of being the hand that killed Matt. "No, I don't wish it was Matt. I don't wish it was anyone."

Lucifer drummed his fingers against the tabletop. "My return was inevitable, Zachary. Your family saw to that. I simply tried to make the best out of a difficult situation. I gave you the chance to avenge beautiful Rebecca, but you did not take it. The ritual would have reached out for the most powerful heart without my direction. Losing you was not an option, so Michael became the required sacrifice."

"You could have used me. You should have used me!"

"Enough!" seethed Lucifer.

The room darkened for a brief moment. Zach's breath crystallized in front of him. The glass windows cracked and frosted instantly due to the abrupt change in temperature. Zach did not dare move for fear of further provoking the man across from him. The lights regained their normal power, and the temperature gradually returned to normal as Lucifer heaved a deep sigh.

"It is pointless reflecting over the mistakes of the past. Michael is dead by your hands."

"It wasn't me!" hissed Zach despite himself.

Lucifer gave him an unimpressed look. "You are the one with the memory of holding his still beating heart. You can recall the feeling of his thick, hot blood coating your hands. Think what you will, Zachary, but your family saw the truth. They saw what you did."

Zach shook his head violently as his stomach twisted itself into knots. He had dreamt about those precious few minutes over and over again. Every spare moment he had thoughts and doubts about his actions of that day plague his subconscious. His pallor faded as the truth of Lucifer's words sunk in. Those dreams were too real to not be true. He stared down at his hand and gagged. The smell and warmth of Michael's blood were as vivid to him as ever before.

"No! No. No, no—no…"

Lucifer reached across the table and patted his bare skin. "It will not help to dwell on it. Perhaps, in time, you will be able to make it up to your family. For the moment, our breakfast is coming. Let's not spoil the meal."

The waitress all but dropped the plates on the table in her attempt to leave as soon as she arrived. Lucifer ignored her, instead focusing on his omelet. Zach pushed his food off to the side, no longer capable of stomaching the idea of eating. He sat in silence and watched Lucifer devour his food before sitting back and enjoy his cup of coffee. The Power gave not hint of his true nature as he drank. Even though Zach knew who the man was he could not find anything to mark Lucifer as anything other than a young brown-haired man in a nice suit.

Lucifer stood up. "It is time we headed home. My demons do become rather destructive when they are bored. I think you may require a few more hours of rest and contemplation before we talk in earnest. I will leave you in your room."

Lucifer offered him a hand. Listlessly Zach took hold of the hand as they disappeared in a roar of flames. As he had said, Lucifer deposited Zach back in the replica of his room at the Manor before vanishing. Zach threw himself onto the unmade bed and curled into a ball. He needed to talk to his dad. Tears streamed down his cheeks through closed eyes as a restless sleep took him.

* * *

A month had passed since his first breakfast with Lucifer. Hank and Camilla were replaced by a rotation of demons, warlock, and witches loyal to the dark Power That Be. Even though he tried to let himself think of his predicament as a new normal, time eroded even the most stubborn mountain. He had developed a routine over the weeks of his captivity. Most days started early with a visit to the city for breakfast. Lucifer often accompanied him, but sometimes only his guards escorted him. After breakfast, he was sent to a massive library full of books and scrolls on forgotten magic and ancient mystics. Some days he would spend all day in the well-lit and comfortable room. Other days his readings were interrupted by Lucifer who would engage him in thought-provoking debates over good, evil, and the Grand Design. Rarely, he was allowed access to a computer or television. He used those opportunities to learn about what was going on in the outside world. Mainly he wanted to hear news about his family, but nothing was ever reported about the Halliwells.

Two days a week were devoted to physical and magical combat training. He initially fought the notion of training with demons, but Lucifer reminded him vividly of the consequences of angering the Power. An entire coven, which could trace its roots back to the Assyrian Empire, was eviscerated before him for his defiance. Forty powerful witches and warlocks died because of his decision. He never refused to train again. His sparring partners varied, depending on what skill he was supposed to be improving. The most consistent of his teachers was Isis.

Isis was one of the new not-demons in Lucifer's army. She called herself and her six brethren the Ennead after the pantheon of Egyptian gods and goddesses. He called them the Seconds to annoy them. Out of the seven Ennead, he found he could most easily tolerate his time around Isis. He had only seen her monstrous form once and then only for a moment. She preferred to appear as a tall human female with porcelain skin and short dark red hair. Her eyes remained a calculating gray no matter how much he aggravated her. When they were not sparring, she was always dressed in formal business attire.

Today, they were working on his control over elemental conjuring specifically fire. He preferred to use electricity when he resorted to using elements. The power felt more in tune with his personality. Fire was too hot and unpredictable. Electricity was cool and precise. He sat on the springy sparring mat with his legs crossed and hand outstretched.

"Mafdet ran into your uncle a few days ago," said Isis conversationally.

Zach did not rise to the bait; even though, he desperately wanted to hear about the encounter. He refocused his efforts. The sooner he completed his task; the sooner he could interrogate her. The log a few feet from his hand gave off a thin spiral of smoke. Isis laughed.

"You will have to do better than that, Zachary."

The log exploded in a massive ball of flames.

"Don't call me Zachary!" snapped Zach jumping to his feet.

Lucifer stood off in the distance. "Put out the flames before they burn down my house."

Zach flicked his hands and the flames froze. He glared at Isis and gestured with his finger. The frozen ball of flames sprang back to life and sped toward the powerful woman. A thin barrier of water extinguished the fire before it reached her. She pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"You may be Lucifer's pet, but even the most beloved of dogs must be disciplined. Pray he does not assign me to that task." Isis vanished in a puff of white smoke.

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. "You should not test her patience. She may take your punishment too far without thinking."

Zach scoffed. "I could take her."

"You have never seen Isis use her full and ample range of powers. Just because you bested Montu in one sword fight does not mean you can afford to be cocky," warned Lucifer sagely.

"Why are you here? I thought you're taking care of something in Libya." Zach summoned a water bottle and downed half of it.

Lucifer licked his lips. "I was needed in the city. It seems your uncle is getting closer at figuring out a way onto my island."

The water bottle slipped out of his grip. His face paled. "You promised me…"

Again Lucifer rolled his green-brown eyes. "Your uncle is unharmed and will remain so provided he does not attack this island. I made a deal, and I stick to my deals. Any aggression to this island will be met with swift retribution. I told you this back when you begged for your family's lives."

Zach scoffed at the debridement. "I did not beg."

Smirking, Lucifer tossed Zach a leather covered book he produced from within his jacket. "That is the title we discussed at our previous meeting."

"And I told you I wasn't interested. Necromancy is black magic. I agreed to your training and not trying to escape every chance I get, but I won't practice black magic." Zach threw the book to the ground in defiance.

Lucifer arched an eyebrow. "Between the two of us there are few barriers left in the world. Mastery of necromancy will allow you to bring back your dearly departed."

"No magic can bring back the dead. Any attempt would only result in imitations of life. I've been over this with my dad."

"Your father was limited in his worldview. He chose a path that greatly diminished his potential. You still have those options available to you. Read the book. There is no harm in reading it. Knowledge never hurt anyone," said Lucifer silkily.

The book rose off the floor and floated back into Zach's crossed arms. The teen caught the book, even though his misgivings held resolute in his mind. Between his father, uncles, and aunt, if there were a way to bring back the dead they would have found it and used it. They had lost too many loved ones to not try.

"After all, your uncle was dead and is now alive."

Zach frowned. "Who says he's alive? Even you can't tell me for certain what he is."

Lucifer sighed. "My brother shields him from me. Whatever Uriel has planned for young Anakin, you can be assured it will not end pleasantly for the witch. My brother has a habit of using mortals and then disposing of them once their usefulness has run out. You want your family to live happily ever after? You need to train so that you can help me defeat Uriel."

Zach chewed on the inside of his cheek. It still did not feel right siding with Lucifer, but everything he heard and read about Uriel made the Angel of Death sound terrible. He was ruthless and cared nothing for the mortal world. He acted as a force of nature, taking no side and in doing so left destruction in his wake. He and Lucifer would never see eye to eye on many things, but he had enough doubts about Uriel to at least pay attention to Lucifer's plans for the other Power.

"You need to shower and dress presentably. I have a long-overdue introduction to perform. I believe you will want to not look like a washed up sick puppy." Lucifer said leading the way out of the training chamber.

Zach jogged to catch up and fell in step just behind the slightly shorter man. He could not pinpoint when he had grown taller than Lucifer, but it was a testament to the passage of time. A coldness settled in his heart. He had never imagined he would be held captive for so long. Initially, he had been sure his father would mount a successful rescue mission the moment he was able to. He was not sure what the lack of a rescue meant. From what he could gather from small tidbits of conversations he had eavesdropped on his father and uncle were no longer in captivity. His family was no longer in the city. The obvious choice for the Halliwells to regroup was his mother's family's homestead.

"Are we meeting the person here?" asked Zach as a roundabout way to find out if the person was magical or not. Lucifer did not allow mortals to set foot on the island even his allies.

Lucifer nodded. "In the throne room. She will have a report to give of her adventures. I require an explanation for her tardiness."

Zach felt sorry for the demon. Lucifer's tone suggested nothing pleasant would come out of the meeting. He had accidentally stumbled into one of the many prison centers under the island a few days ago. The sights and horrors he witnessed were forever burned into his mind. One demon, in particular, stood out, Rahab was strung up from giant meat hooks. She was completely naked and strips of her skin were flayed away revealing the muscle underneath. Her screams echoed inside him as he thought about the experience. As civilized as Lucifer acted around him, the Power That Be still had a cruel and malicious side.

Lucifer paused at a crossroads. Zach stopped shorted nearly crashing into the man. The corridor to the right lit by blazing torches led to the obsidian throne room. The one to the left meandered back up to the staircase separating his room from the rest of the demonic headquarters.

"I still have things to get in order. The nations in Africa are proving to be more unruly than anticipated. It is always easier to corrupt the Western world. I expect you by my side in one hour."

Zach made a rude gesture with his finger and turned his back on Lucifer. He did not wait for Lucifer's reaction. The walk to his room would take at least ten minutes. Along the way, he dodged out of the way of a colony of stone-faced demons. Each muscular demon dragged a massive stone behind it. At the end of the parade strode the bird-faced Montu carrying a barbed whip. He acknowledged Zach with a subtle bob of his head as he cracked the whip hitting one of the smaller demons on her exposed back. Brown colored blood dribbled out of the long angry-looking mark left behind by the weapon.

"Hurry up you peons! I don't have all day. Apep needs the ritual chamber complete by tonight."

Zach shook his head and continued on his way. He could not afford to have sympathy for the demons. They were demons. If they were not working as slaves on the island, they would be out in the world terrorizing mortals. Still the very human part of him did not like it when any sentient creature was treated as little more than a workhorse. Hell, he did not like it when a horse was treated like a workhorse. He reached his room by rote, his mind busy with deeper thoughts.

Lucifer had clearly been in his room. A pair of his best black jeans was laid out on his bed alongside a plain undershirt and red collared shirt. Two pairs of shoes sat at the base of his bed with a message scrawled in floating orange letters: "your choice". He chuckled and picked up the pair of shiny black dress shoes. Collecting the rest of his clothing, he locked himself in the bathroom. The warm lights sprang to life at his entrance, allowing him to study himself in the mirror.

The months changed him. He had always been on the paler side, but his infrequent exposure to the sun gave him an almost sickly complexion. He had bags under his dull blue eyes. He had not been sleeping well. The constant fear for his family ate at him. The constant physical training meant he kept his physique. He thought he could possibly beat Matt for the one with the more defined six-pack. The thought of Matt brought him up short, and he swallowed hard.

"You should not dawdle. The master is not known for his patience," said a disembodied voice.

Zach waved his hand. His reflection rippled and reformed into the ghostly figure of a scrawny young man. "Lucifer can wait. I need a shower, Percy."

The figure nervously ruffled his sparse blond hair. "My name is not Percy."

"Well, I'm not calling you that ridiculously long name that just sounds like a sick dog coughing. It's Percy or nothing," said Zach, turning on the shower.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts."

"You do that."

Zach climbed into the shower. The figure in the mirror was an enchantment. Lucifer's way of keeping an eye on him while he was in his room. He had discovered a few days into his captivity no demon could enter his room without his permission. He had not given his permission to any of them. Even Lucifer appeared to be in pain when he entered. Something in the wards did not like dark magic. Percy appeared to him after about a week to inform him he was running late. He had nearly blown up half the island in fright. He had worked out the purpose of the enchantment when Lucifer had brought up Rebecca one day. He had been talking to himself about his girlfriend that morning in the bathroom. After that, he was careful to not say anything aloud.

He showered and dressed leisurely, sensing Lucifer had plans for the night. He may pay for his insolence, but it would not be at this meeting. Percy appeared once more to hurry him up, but Zach ignored him and his metaphysical friend left in a huff. He contemplated remaining in his room and forcing Lucifer to fetch him, but he decided it was a step too far. He could not afford to anger Lucifer too much, or he risked the safety of his family. He set off for the throne room, meeting no one on his way. The corridors were unusually quiet and solemn. He reached the entrance to the room and found it barred shut with a harpy and tattooed warlock standing guard.

"He is expecting me," said Zach forcefully when the harpy shoved him back.

"You are to wait, young witch," croaked the warlock, eye glinting.

Zach balled his hands into fists. "He did not want me to be late."

The harpy lazily sharpened her talons against one another. "Too late for that. The meeting already began Now, you must wait for it to conclude."

"Or I could just vanquish your sorry ass," snapped Zach.

The harpy laughed. "I'd make mincemeat of your pretty face before you even blinked."

The warlock shifted and bent her head to one side. "I'd not aggravate the man. Our master believes he is powerful."

"No witch is a match for me. The Charmed Ones tried to vanquish me and failed. What is one of their bastard offspring going to do?"

The warlock shrugged. "On your head be it."

Zach raised his hand out in front of him with fingers splayed. "Let me through," he commanded.

The harpy attacked. Zach sidestepped the punch and released the telekinetic blast. Something snapped, and the harpy screamed in anger and pain. Not waiting for her to recover, Zach flicked his wrists and blew her apart. He grinned in triumph, but it faltered. The black particles swarmed together and coalesced back in the form of the now furious harpy.

"Only black magic can kill a harpy queen."

The harpy froze in place becoming pale as a sheet. "My lord…"

Lucifer stepped out of the shadows, glaring at Zach. "When will you learn? There is no evil magic and good magic. There are shades of gray. The darker the gray, the more powerful usually."

Zach narrowed his eyes. "Is that why my father is considered the most powerful magical being to live?"

The harpy screeched in protest.

Lucifer snapped his fingers, and she clutched at her throat. Zach watch in horror as her skin turned black and rotted in a moment. Swallowing against his gag reflex, he tore his eyes away from the revolting sight. They settled instead on the warlock. Her tattoos glowed with blue flames.

"That is enough, Lefey. See that this mess gets cleaned up."

The warlock gave Zach a cocky grin and bowed low. "As you wish, milord."

Lucifer curled his finger. "Come, Zachary, you have kept our guest waiting long enough"

Zach carefully avoided the pile of putrid slime and bones as he followed Lucifer into the throne room. Little had changed in the room. A fire still roared in the corner. There were a few more magical items along the walls. A girl sat on the ledge of the throne's pedestal. She gave no indication of noticing their arrival; she continued to stare at three piles of ashes.

"The remains of those who failed me," said Lucifer simply.

The girl slowly turned her head to face them. She had the most captivating green eyes Zach could remember. Her honey brown hair was longer than the last time he had seen her, but Zach recognized her from the eyes. She was no longer dressed in the revealing leather outfits he came to associate with her kind. Instead, she wore skintight blue jeans and a loose black sleeveless top. She was also tanner than a few months ago.

"Zachary, meet Indra Evangeline Storm. Indra, you already know who this is." Lucifer made the introductions with a cheerful expression.

Indra sized Zach up. "Still doesn't look like much. You sure you want him to be your apprentice?"

Zach gritted his teeth. "Who says I want to be his apprentice?"

Lucifer raised a hand, forestalling the oncoming argument. "You can get acquainted on your own time. Indra will be your permanent bodyguard. I have already created a room adjoining your own."

"I don't need a bodyguard!"

Lucifer cracked his knuckles impatiently. "You just proved you need someone watching your back, Zachary. This is my final decision on the matter. Indra, your report, please. I have another engagement shortly."

Indra bowed her head, but Zach sensed she was mocking Lucifer with the display of respect. "I again apologize for the tardiness of my return. I know you wished for me to take on my new role earlier, but my absence couldn't be avoided. As you know, you sent my team and me on a mission to scout out the few remaining pockets of resistance in the Underworld and elsewhere. My companions reported on those events.

She glanced back at the piles of ash. A glint of anger burned in her green eyes.

"During the mission, I was separated from my team. I was tracking a particular warlock who has declared himself the new Source. He set up shop in Los Angeles. It took longer than I expected to infiltrate his ranks and dismantle his support. He will no longer be a concern, and there is a network in place for your takeover of the city."

"Most impressive, Indra. You have always performed above and beyond my expectations for you. Your delay has caused some difficulty, but if Los Angeles truly falls as easy as you say, all will be forgiven. I will have Mafdet meet with you to take over for you. What of the witch?" Lucifer eyes grew bright.

Indra shrugged. "He was able to stay constantly just out of my reach. It appears whatever was keeping him in San Francisco is no longer the case. He's set up shop just north of Los Angeles from what I could tell. He is not in the same league as the Halliwells, but he is dangerous. I'd take care of him as soon as possible."

Lucifer waved her suggestion aside. "He is of little consequence. I find his antics almost comical."

"It's your decision. I'm giving you my report."

"Anything else?" asked Lucifer, checking his watch.

Indra shook her head. "No, I think we've delayed you enough," she said cheekily.

Lucifer frowned. "Be careful, Indra, your performance buys you some leeway but not that much. I am still your master."

"My apologies."

"No matter, I do have to be off. Zachary can show you to your new living quarters," said Lucifer before vanishing.

Zach took a deep breath. "So…"

Indra cut him off with a shake of her head. "No, you don't speak. I've got to babysit you instead of being out there and doing something. You don't get to talk to me. Shut up, a show me to the rooms. Tomorrow, I'll talk to your former guards to find out your schedule. I'll be your shadow; nothing more."

Zach flexed his fingers and ground his teeth together. "What the hell is your problem?"

Indra flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't ask for bodyguards. I didn't ask to be stuck on this godforsaken island. I don't show Lucifer any reverence, why the fuck would I show his runt of a guard dog any?"

The air around Indra crackled with energy. "Don't think I won't kill you. You think your little pretend fights have prepared you to take me on? Dream on, buddy! I've taken down targets twice as big as you and far more accomplished in magic."

Zach twitched his head and sent her flying across the room. He was surprised to see her land on her feet albeit clumsily. She produced an athame and threw it at him. He blinked and turned the blade into a dozen daisies. A small wave of his fingers conjured two sets of heavy metal chains. They wrapped around her arms and pulled her to the floor. He walked over to her.

"Just because I'm not willing to kill anything with a heartbeat doesn't make me powerless. I may not be an assassin, but I'm a Halliwell. I'm the son of the Twice Blessed. You would do well to remember that. Oh, and call me 'buddy' again, and I'll vanquish you."

Indra glared up at him with her green eyes. "I'll get you for this, Zachary!"

Zach balled his hands into fists and bent down. He dropped his voice to a deadly whisper. "Never call me Zachary. I can't get Lucifer to stop, but you I can. No one calls me Zachary, not ever. Understand?" He felt his eyes burning and turned his face away from her.

"Y—yes."

Zach released her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'll show you to our rooms. I have breakfast with Lucifer normally, but I don't know if that's still happening."

Indra rubbed her wrists. "I'm sure he'll let us know."

"Maybe." He offered her a helping hand, which she accepted. "Sorry, about the chains."

"And you were just beginning to impress me," mocked Indra.

"Why did you have that message?"

Indra shushed him. "Phoenixes work for whoever pays the most. My former—er—guardian took the job from some witch hunter."

"Sophie's dad."

Indra glared at him. "Stop talking, idiot."

Zach glanced around. "No demon enters this room without being invited in. We won't be overheard."

"Lu—I mean, my master can have the place charmed."

Zach pulled out the necklace he always wore. It was charmed to let his dad always find him, but he had re-enchanted it for a different purpose. "This negates any eavesdropping whether magical or otherwise. I'm not an idiot."

Indra stepped in closer to examine the necklace. Zach gulped, feeling his heart pick up its pace. "Weird, I've never heard of that being possible."

"It's a spell of my own invention. You spend months on end studying magic, and you learn stuff," said Zach nonchalantly.

Indra let go of the necklace and looked up into his eyes. His breath caught in his throat. She smiled. "You're blushing. Have you never been this close to a girl before?"

Zach growled. "Of course, I have! I have a girlfriend."

"Right, I read about that somewhere. Rebecca?"

Zach blinked, surprised. "Where'd you read that?"

Indra shrugged. "Rahab and Tiamat did their homework. There're scores of files on you and your family."

Zach's shoulders slumped. "So, the room?"

Indra nodded. "Yeah, the room."

Zach took the lead. Along the way, they did not speak. Zach found himself replaying the whole affair in his mind. He had acted annoyed with her as a way to disguise his initial recognition. Lucifer was very adept at reading minds. Her dismissal of him, though, angered him. He did not want her to think of his as a defenseless boy. Then when she had been so close to him he struggled to breathe. He shook his head. The thought was beyond absurd. He loved Rebecca. They reached the staircase and climbed up. Instead of meeting a single door at the top, there were now two. One door had scorch marks from a demon he had vanquished. He opened it.

"Night," he muttered and closed the door without waiting for a reply.

* * *

The week after the attack was intolerable for Zach. Lucifer went on a rampage, dragging him along to watch. He was thankful Matt was back with their families. Although, he was unsure how much longer his family would remain safe. It took every ounce of his persuasiveness to keep Lucifer from seeking revenge on his uncle and father. Whatever Anakin had done left Lucifer weak for a day. It took two dozen Source-level demons to replenish the Power's energy reserves. Zach found himself surrounded by demons or one of the Ennead at all times besides for the few short hours he was allowed to retreat to the sanctuary of his room. He would have gone insane if it was not for Eve, as Indra preferred to be called.

He found Eve to be a highly intelligent and sarcastic person. While in the presence of others, she conducted herself as a reluctant guard and emotionless but deadly warrior. Outside the view of prying eyes, she would laugh at his dark joke and lend a much-needed ear. The time since her arrival to the island by no means was pleasant, but he found himself for brief moments able to forget his captivity. He would even go so far as to call the young Phoenix witch a friend.

"You need to work on not letting your emotions dictate your actions during a fight," said Eve professional, dressing a particularly nasty cut on his forehead.

Zach hissed as she cleaned the wound with disinfectant. "I can self-heal, you know."

Eve pressed the piece of gauze roughly against his head and held it still. "It doesn't mean you should use it. Reliance on powers will handicap you. This isn't a world ignorant of magic anymore. Mortals have found ways to negate magic. Weren't you listening to a word Isis was shouting at you?"

"That bi—woman is always shouting something. Most of the time I put her on mute. She's a fanatic. It's completely pointless listening to her—uh, usually." Zach ducked out of her reach and healed his wound with a smirk.

Eve rolled her eyes. "Isis is Lucifer's second-in-command. You shouldn't ignore her. She is a threat."

Zach cocked one eyebrow. "A threat? Lucifer wants me to be his apprentice. She wouldn't dare go against his will."

Eve packed away the first aid kit and pulled her legs up to her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and stared at him with her hypnotic eyes. Zach blinked and looked away. He sighed. "Fine, whatever."

Eve smiled. "Do you not like my eye color or something?" she teased.

Zach blushed. "No, it's—er—there was a bug," he ended lamely.

She reached out and brushed his forearm with her fingertips. "It's ok if you find me hot, Zach. I won't beat you up."

"Like you could, and no, it's not ok. I've got a girlfriend," argued Zach.

Eve laughed softly and lay back on his bed. "And what would your girlfriend have to say about me lying in your bed?"

Zach's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. The bottom of Eve's dark blue shirt slid up, revealing the edges of her flawless navel. He shook his head slowly. "You—you're lying on my bed, not in it. A—aa—and I'm sitting on a chair!"

"She'll accept the difference? On—in, there's just one letter…"

Zach stood up in a huff. "Seriously, Eve, I'm—er—let's stop this."

Even shrugged, causing her shirt to rise up even more. "Up to you. I can get my rocks off later. Maybe, you can conjure a replica of the mysterious Rebecca to help your hand tonight."

Zach's blush deepened, and he scrunched up his face in indignation. "What the hell!"

Eve sat up and straightened her shirt. She playfully bit her lower lip, staring up at him. "The offer always stands. It'd just be one of the perks of the job. It doesn't have to mean anything. How do you know she isn't getting some from someone else?"

"Because she loves me! I love her…" The last part trailed off in a higher pitch. Zach closed his eyes. "She's with my friends and family. She's safe."

Eve stood up and walked over to him. "You're too good for her, Zach. You'll figure that out. When you do, look me up." She brushed past him and exited the room.

A confused and frustrated Zach threw himself onto his bed. Smothering his face into a pillow, he screamed at the top of his lungs. Girls, no matter the species, were insufferable. Turning, he caught his breath and spotted a piece of paper on the floor. He slipped off his bed and bent down to collect it. Carefully he unfurled the crumpled ball. On it in very neat and small block letters was written a question. He balled the paper back up and it burst into flames. He strode to the bedroom door, and it burst open of its own accord.

"EVE!" he yelled. His voice echoed around him.

She stepped out of the shadows, a frown on her face. "What? How? Zach…"

Zach cut her off with a glare. "What do you need to tell me about Rebecca? What are you hiding?" Tell me, NOW!"

The young witch trembled. "Z—za—z—Zach…"

Zach ignored her attempts at pleas. His eyes burned with suppressed anger and power. Small particles of dust and dirt swirled around his feet. His hair blew in a non-existent wind. "How did you know about Rebecca? What are you?"

Eve tried to meet his glare, but she was knocked to the floor by an invisible force. "Z—zz—Zach, pp-pp-please…"

Zach's knuckles grew white. "SPEAK!" He said the word in barely more than a whisper, but it reverberated with an unyielding power.

Eve's body went limp for a moment. When she righted herself there was something different about her face. It was void of any emotion or recognition. She started to speak in a hollow, distant voice. "Rebecca Starling was researched by my coven on orders from Lucifer. She was known to be a weak point for the Halliwells. Lucifer hoped to somehow exploit this weakness in his favor. After his resurrection, I was assigned to a team targeting a renegade witch along with other pockets of resistance."

Zach watched her eyes rolled back into her head.

"The witch was only a teenager, but he was resourceful and powerful. He used evil's natural distrust of others against us. He managed to slaughter most of my team before something changed. His focus shifted from killing demons to protecting someone—a—a girl. We found his weakness, but before we could exploit it he vanished along with the girl."

Zach brow furrowed. "What's this got to do with Rebecca?"

"Is it not obvious, Zachary?" whispered Lucifer.

Zach spun around, fire ball in hand. "Go away, Lucifer!"

Lucifer stepped aside, revealing two cloaked figures. "Take her to the infirmary. Give her a sleep potion and have Agnodice reform her memories. We need her to still trust Zachary."

The figure bowed and approached Eve who had stopped talking and slumped over, boneless as a wet fish. Zach blocked their progress with a determined expression on his face.

"She's not going anywhere, not until I hear what happened to Rebecca," he hissed.

Lucifer folded his arms. "I will not tolerate this insolence. Step aside. The mind magics you used have greatly harmed her. She has told you all you need to know."

Zach raised the fire ball.

Lucifer sighed and stretched out a single finger. Something struck Zach in the shoulder, spinning him around. He lost his balance and crashed to the ground. He tried to get up, but Lucifer somehow closed the distance between them in a blink of an eye. He kicked the downed witch in the stomach with enough force to throw him a few feet to the side. Zach landed on his back, choking for air. Lucifer stood on his hand and grounded it into the ground. Bones snapped. Zach screamed.

"Once she is finished with Indra, inform Agnodice she has another patient in the tower," said Lucifer dispassionately.

The cloaked figures shimmered away, taking the unconscious Eve with them. Lucifer bent down with most of his weight still squashing Zach's mangled hand. Zach groaned in agony. He licked his lips slowly and wrapped one hand around the teens jaw, forcing him to look at him. Eyes swirled with dangerous power.

"While I am impressed you would use such dark and deadly magic, I would prefer you directed such tactics toward my enemies." Lucifer tightened his grip.

"R—re…"

Lucifer breathed out in a huff. "Rebecca is shaking up with the witch, idiot. Indra told you. You were simply too thick to comprehend it. She cares so much for you that she fought your compulsion until it broke her. She knew the news would devastate you. You owe her an apology of sorts, should she survive."

Lucifer let go of him and looked at him with disgust. "I thought good was supposed to have compassion and mercy. I may be a monster, but even I know what is too far, Zachary. Compulsion is a terrible gift. Use it at your own peril."

Zach gulped against his warring emotions.

Lucifer dragged him back onto his feet. "Tonight's events will be re-written in Indra's mind. I want you to show her every kindness going forward. Show her that you understand the sacrifice she made for you. Prove to her that her feelings toward you are not one-sided. She would make an excellent consort."

"Why?"

Lucifer's eyes stilled, and he smiled vindictively. "Because Rebecca is one of the few connections you have to your former life, and I need to severe all of those connections. You will be my right-hand man, Zachary, but you do not need to be unhappy. You seem to need the love of another. I cannot allow your love for Rebecca to continue. Replace it with love for Indra."

Lucifer picked him up and shoved him into his room and closed the door. Zach collapsed on the spot. On the other side of the door, Isis appeared with a triumphant smirk.

"He is close," she purred.

Lucifer nodded, dusting off his jacket. "See that he is forced to use his compulsion power often. The more he gives into selfishness, the sooner he will try to resurrect his dear cousin. We will get to kill two pests with one failed witch." Lucifer faded away, with a glimmer of jubilation in his eyes.

* * *

AN: So what did you think? Leave a review and let me know how I'm doing.

I promise the next chapter will have more happy scenes in it. I know this chapter was fairly dark.

I want to thank you for reading and sticking with me. We're on this ride together.


	4. Love You Always Forever

AN: This is an intense chapter. You have been warned!

* * *

LOVE YOU ALWAYS FOREVER

Rebecca's eyes snapped open. Something was not right. After two weeks on the road running for their lives, she had developed a sixth sense for danger. The car was stopped, pulled off the side of the road. It was not safe, but they had all been too tired the night before to push forward. She could not even remember what state they were. Outside the misted windows, the world was still shrouded in the oppressive darkness of night. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to figure out what had woken her from her fitful slumber. She wanted to sit up but feared movement would attract attention.

She tried to find her companions, but both front seats of the stolen station wagon were vacant. The boys usually slept in the single tent, taking turns watching for danger. Something shifted next to her, and only sheer force of will kept her from screaming. She peered down and breathed a sigh of relief. The baby snuggled closer to her, seeking out the additional heat.

Ivan Mitchell belonged to the oldest of her traveling companions. He was only a few months old and already lived through too much. His mother, Catia Santos, died the day after giving birth to him in a massive explosion. Somehow, he had survived and was found by his father. They were hunted across Europe before they made their way to England. From England, they took a ship to America in disguise. The ship came under fire near Rhode Island and was sunk by the US Navy. Only quick thinking and dumb luck saved him and his father from the fate of the rest of the ships passengers. It took another month for them to reach San Francisco, only to find it overrun by demons. Fate brought them to Los Angeles, where they met up with Rebecca and her friends.

The life on the road had not been kind to Ivan. He was weak and sick when Rebecca first met him. She had first thought he would not survive the night, but he was resilient. While the men planned and fought for their safety, she and Natalie nursed baby Ivan back to health. It was on a trip to the grocery store to buy for baby formula that Natalie met her end. Rebecca never wanted to hear all the details, but she knew her best friend spent the last few moment on Earth being savaged by werewolves.

Natalie's death marked the beginning of a string of bad luck for their little group. The next to die was Natalie's boyfriend, Sam. He was an army recruit who thought he could avenge her death. He snuck out of their hideout one night, and they found his head on a spike in a nearby park the following morning along with a dozen others. The werewolves declared war on everyone. The gruesome collection of heads in the park grew by the day until there were too many to count. A pair of witches, Rebecca only knew by sight died in the werewolf massacre. The next day their group chose to disband.

The day following the some of the adults snuck into town to gather supplies for a trek east. When the group did not return by nightfall, Rebecca feared the worst, and her fears were confirmed the following day. A demon with a weird animal head had set up shop in town. She had slaughtered every human in town in order to rid herself of the werewolf menace. The adults had gotten caught up in the fighting. Both of her parents were dead.

Rebecca shook her head and took in a gulping breath. She could not afford to lose control of her emotions, not until she figured out if they were under attack.

The sole adult to make it out of the town arrived back to their hideout the day after the announcement of Mafdet's arrival. Henry Mitchell Jr. could barely walk by the time he crawled over the threshold of the rundown house. He refused to talk to anyone, and after checking on Ivan passed out for a full day. When he came back around, he announced he would be leaving with his son. Anyone who wanted to join him was welcome. Rebecca immediately signed up.

Something moved outside the car window. She stiffened and squinted to try and make out more than vague shapes in the darkness. Her right hand wrapped around cool comforting metal. She slowly brought the gun up and cocked it, aiming in the direction of the movement. She held her breath and shakily placed her finger on the trigger. Every fiber of her being was poised for action. Someone knocked on the window behind her. She let out a blood-chilling scream.

"It's alright. It's alright, Becks. It's just me," whispered Nathaniel, opening the door.

Rebecca whimpered in relief and lowered the gun. Her scream had woken Ivan. She put on the safety on the gun and picked him up, comforting him. She glared at Nathaniel.

"What the hell!"

Nathaniel grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, I was coming back from the bathroom. I just wanted to make sure you're ok. I didn't mean to scare you."

Henry appeared out of the dark, with a gun in one hand and an athame in the other. "What is going on?"

"Sorry, I kinda freaked out," muttered Rebecca. Her cheeks heated up.

Henry Jr. pocketed the gun. "Here, I can take him. It's almost time for his next feeding."

Rebecca handed Ivan over to his father. Henry Jr. grabbed a bottle and walked away, presumably toward the tent. Rebecca shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Nathaniel bent down and squeezed in beside her, wrapping his arms around her and shut the car door. He rested his chin on her shoulder and hugged her. She shifted her arms and hugged his arms.

"Would you have shot me?" he asked softly.

Rebecca, still breathing heavily, shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You shouldn't hesitate. If I was a demon…"

"A great load of help the gun would be. We're out of charmed bullets, remember."

Nathaniel kissed the crook of her neck and leaned back against the door. "It'd still slow them down and give me time to find you. I don't ever want to lose you, Becks. I've lost too much already. We all have."

Rebecca nodded and closed her eyes. With the adrenaline wearing off, exhaustion washed over her. She had not slept well the past few nights. Every town they drove through looked like war zones. She tried to not notice the carnage, but it was impossible to miss. Her dreams consisted of scenes like those they saw during the day, but instead of nameless figures the bodies were of her parents and friends. She sniffed and snuggled in closer to Nathaniel.

Henry Jr. returned. "We should get going. I'll pack up the tent. The compound shouldn't be more than a day's drive from here."

She felt Nathaniel nodded. "I can…"

"No, I've got it," said Henry Jr. in a softer tone than any Rebecca had heard him use. "Just look after Ivan."

"He's weird," said Nathaniel, not for the first time after the older witch left.

Rebecca opened one eye. "He's grieving and trying to be a father in all this."

Nathaniel moved behind her, loosening his arms around her. "Maybe, but we're all grieving. We don't go around sulking all day."

"Give him a break, Nate. We're almost there."

Nathaniel huffed. "Fine, but I'm driving."

"Fine by me," said Henry Jr. returning with the tent. "Try to not drive off the road again. We don't have any more duck tape."

Rebecca laughed.

Nathaniel looked at her like she had betrayed him, but she shrugged and smiled. He shook his head and climbed out and back in the driver's seat. The engine choked a few times before starting. Carefully he pulled back onto the deserted highway. They did not dare turn on the headlights, so they had to drive slowly until the sun came up.

Rebecca rested her head against the cold window and watched the sun make its way above the horizon. The landscape was unfamiliar, a mixture of shrubs and sand with the occasional tree. Frost covered the ground in some areas. In the distance, something was on fire, marked by a dark pillar of smoke. She shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep for a moment.

She woke to the car screeching to a halt. The road was blocked by two eighteen-wheelers. Automatically she reached for her gun and placed it on her lap as she waited for the guys to react. Nathaniel was peering out the window with a worried expression on his face. She caught his eyes in the rearview mirror. Henry Jr. sat passively in the passenger seat. She could see the military training in his lazy stance, though.

"Now, what?" asked Nathaniel.

Henry Jr. pointed at one of the trucks. "We wait."

A rotund man stepped out from behind the truck followed by three younger men; they could only be his sons. Each of them carried serious looking guns. Rebecca was not an expert on firearms, but she had seen enough action movies to know they were automatic weapons. Her breath caught in her throat. She fumbled around for a blanket and placed over the sleeping Ivan. The men approached the car.

"Hello, there, traveler," called the fat grey-haired man.

Henry Jr. signaled for them to remain quiet before opening his door. The three sons immediately had him in their sights. He raised both of his hands above his head and smiled but did not stop walking. The men stopped.

"Hi, I'm Henry."

The man bobbed his head and the fat in his neck continued to jiggle from the movement. "Henry, I'm Scott and these are my sons. What brings you to these parts?"

Henry Jr. lowered his hands. "Just passing through. We're going to see some family out in the mountains."

"The mountains?" asked one of the sons. "Nobody out there but those crazy redskins. You don't look like a redskin."

"Shut it, Jeb," snapped Scott. "You'll have to ignore my son. He tends to speak without thinking, but he does have a point. I know most of the Indians around here. You're new and, forgive me, but not very native-looking."

Henry Jr. shrugged. "They're family through marriage. If you'll be so kind to move your trucks, we'll be on our way and out of your hair."

Another of the sons chuckled. "They'll be out of our hair, Dad."

Scott rested his gun on the ground in front of him, relying on his sons to keep him covered. "I'd happily move my trucks for a price. You see with this crazy war going on, not so many people are driving around and filling up at my gas station. I need to put food on the table."

"Yeah, and we're told that some of those bastard witches may be heading our way. There's a nifty reward for whoever brings in their heads," said the final son excitedly.

"I can assure you I'm no witch. I'm just trying to visit family. I don't have any cash to pay you, but we have a tent and a crate of canned meats and vegetables," said Henry Jr. calmly.

The father picked up his gun. "Got no need for a tent or canned food. I've got plenty of that in the store. I need cash for other supplies. No cash, no passage."

Henry Jr. sighed. "And I can't persuade you to make one exception? We've been on the road for a while now…"

"You heard Dad! No cash, no passage," shouted Jeb.

Scott frowned. "Where did you say you're from, Henry? I'm a good friend with the state patrol officers in this area. They give me heads up on anyone who may be passing through my section of the world. Anyone who legally is allowed to travel these roads has to pass through their checkpoint. And you see, the strange thing is they didn't tell me anyone was coming my way. Boys."

The three brothers cocked their guns. Henry Jr. shook his head.

"Why you shaking your head, witch?"

Scott raised his own gun and pointed at the car. "How many are there still in there? I can see the boy. Anyone else?"

Henry Jr. shook his head. "Look, I just want to visit my family. I'm not looking for trouble."

"Too bad, you found some," jeered Jeb.

"Nathaniel, step out of the car," yelled Henry Jr.

Nathaniel slowly opened the door. All eyes focused on him, and Henry Jr. struck. He grabbed hold of Jeb's gun and smashed it into his face. Jeb fell to the floor. Henry Jr. wielded the freed rifle over his head like a club and cracked the middle brother's skull with a solid blow. The gangly man crumpled, unconscious. The older brother fired his gun and missed. Henry Jr. batted the muzzle aside and shoved the heel of his hand up and under the man's nose. Blood spewed out of the man's broken nose. The man tried to fire again, but Henry Jr. punched him, crushing his windpipe.

Scott leveled his gun at Henry Jr. and squeeze the trigger. The two of the bullets missed Henry Jr., but the third crashed into his shoulder. The resulting sensation caused him to drop the gun and yell out. Scott grinned in triumph.

"I'd drop the gun if I were you," hissed Nathaniel, pushing the muzzle of his shotgun into the small of the man's back.

Scott tried to attack Nathaniel, but the teen spun the gun around and hit the man in the back of the head with it. The fat man wobbled on the spot for a moment before falling flat on his face. A small pool of blood began to gathering around his head. Nathaniel bent down and checked his pulse.

"Still alive?" asked Henry Jr., standing up and rubbing his uninjured shoulder. "Thank you for the save."

Nathaniel nodded. "You're welcome. Sorry, I couldn't stop the bullet sooner. I'm still working on that trick."

Henry Jr. rolled his arm around in its socket. "I'll live. Now, what to do about those trucks?"

Nathaniel raised his hands and parodied opening curtains. Metal creaked and groaned. He gritted his teeth and continued the motion, breaking into a sweat. Excruciatingly slowly the trucks began to move. Nathaniel dropped his arms to his side and patted heavily after a few moments.

"We can squeeze through that," said Henry Jr., impressed.

"What about this lot?' asked Nathaniel, gesturing to the litter of bodies.

Henry Jr. pulled out a small brown leather pouch. "Not enough for all of them." He bent down over Scott and sprinkled some memory dust over the man's head before whispering a few words.

"Is that enough?" asked Nathaniel as they walked back to the car.

Henry Jr. shrugged. "It'll have to be. I get the impression, though, that the sons won't say anything to contradict their father. Come on, let's go."

They slipped through the space Nathaniel had made and sped off and over the horizon. Only once she could no longer see even a hint of the trucks did Rebecca allow herself to fully relax. That had been too close for her liking. She could not wait to be inside the compound.

"Won't the compound be warded against unwanted guests?" asked Nathaniel sometime later.

Henry Jr. nodded, coming out of a daze. "Most likely, but my cousin sent me exact coordinates for a rendezvous point. I'm hoping they keep the spot under constant surveillance. I don't like our chances of just stumbling onto the compound. Sarah's family is world renowned for their defensive wards."

Rebecca held Ivan in her lap, feeding him another bottle. "How'd your cousin send you the message? Could it have been intercepted?"

"That is always a possibility, but he got his hands on an encrypted government laptop. It'd take a lot of computer time to crack that encryption. The chance is slim the message was seen by anyone else. And I destroyed the cellphone he sent it to, so they can be tracking us. That is a lot of resources to use on capturing one witch even a Halliwell," said Henry Jr. professionally. "Besides if there are government agents laying in wait for us, they're going to be spotted by my cousins."

Nathaniel slowed down. "I think it's the next exit."

Henry Jr. pulled out a map and checked it. "We'll take the road north for five miles before abandoning the car. The rest of the way, we hike."

Rebecca settled back into her seat. "Carrying all the food and stuff?"

"We're far enough out in the boondocks that we can risk some magic, I think," explained Henry Jr. "There's a nifty lightening spell a warlock friend taught me that'll make carrying stuff a breeze. I'm more worried about not having enough supplies if we have to camp out a few days. We're running low on clean water. We can risk drinking from streams, but Ivan needs bottle water."

"We'll manage. I think I saw a few iodine tablets in the first aid kit," said Nathaniel, turning off the highway.

The side road was rough and fill of potholes. Ivan did not like the bumpy ride and started crying. Rebecca tried to calm him down, and Nathaniel drove at a crawl. They arrived at a small boarded up shack. Nathaniel turned off the engine and turned to face them.

"That storm doesn't look good."

Henry Jr. crinkled his nose. "I know, but we need to move. If people around here are looking for witches…" His voice trailed off.

Rebecca steeled herself and opened her door. The wind nearly slammed it shut on her leg. She shoved the door open again and allowed it to slam shut behind her. Holding Ivan tightly against her chest, she rushed to the other side of the car for some protection. Henry Jr. met her, and Nathaniel joined them. The wind howled around them.

"Get the backpacks packed," yelled Rebecca. "I need to pee."

Henry Jr. took Ivan from her, and she dashed behind the shack. When she returned, the boys had three backpacks loaded up. Henry had fashioned a carrier for Ivan and was shouldering the largest of the backpacks. Nathaniel handed her his massive raincoat. It had started to drizzle. She gratefully put on the extra jacket and picked up one of the two remaining backpacks. She was surprised by how light it felt. The spell must have worked. Without a word, they set off in the direct of the meeting place.

Three hours later, Rebecca was soaked to the bone. The drizzle turned into a full-blown thunderstorm two hours into the hike. She was covered in mud and had mud squelching around in her boots. Every step she took felt like its own battle. Nathaniel came up behind her.

"You, ok?"

Rebecca nodded and took another step. She stumbled and would have fallen if Nathaniel had not caught her. He pulled her under a tree for some semblance of protection

"You need to catch your breath," said Nathaniel protectively pushing her to sit on a stump.

"I can keep going," argued Rebecca.

"We all need a break," said Henry Jr. He looked ludicrous with the massive backpack on his shoulders and a baby in the makeshift sling. Unlike the rest of them, Ivan was completely dry.

"How?" asked Nathaniel.

Henry Jr. shrugged. "No clue. He must be channeling magic, but I can't sense anything."

Rebecca blew her nose into a disintegrating tissue. "Wish he could share."

Henry Jr. checked his watch and compass. "It shouldn't be much further. Just over that ridge."

Rebecca started to stand when she spotted some neon. She covered her mouth and pointed. "There's someone out there."

Henry Jr. and Nathaniel straightened up and closed in around her.

"Where?" asked Henry Jr.

"There, just through those bushes. It was like a one of those reflective jackets traffic guards wear."

"Could we have been followed? In this weather?"

Henry Jr. unfastened Ivan and handed him over to Rebecca. "Stay here. Protect her."

"I'm not some helpless damsel," whispered Rebecca, irritated.

Henry Jr. ignored her and slipped off her backpack. He pulled out two hunting knives from it and disappeared into the bushes. The wind picked up again, making listening for danger impossible. The rain let up as evening approached. Still, they sat under the tree, waiting for some sign. Nathaniel kept his shotgun in one hand. Rebecca tried to give Ivan another bottle, but he was too fussy. Neither of them spoke.

Once it became too dark to see anything, Rebecca started to truly worry. "What if he got captured? What are we going to do? He's the only one to know the way."

"Relax, Becks, I'm sure he's fine. He must be leading whoever was out there away from us. He'll be back."

"Should we set up the tent? It's freezing. We need to warm up."

Nathaniel bit his lip. "I don't know. We need to keep a lookout. We can't do that from in the tent. You can get in it. You should."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Nate…"

"Shh! I think I hear something."

The wind was no longer whipping around them, and she could hear rustling in the nearby bushes. Her parents loved camping and would take her at least once a year. She liked everything except for the sounds at night. Sitting under the tree drenched and covered in mud, she remembered exactly how much she hated those sounds.

"There you are!" came a familiar voice.

"Stop there!" shouted Nathaniel.

Rebecca laughed in relief. "Nate, it's ok. It's Wyatt. Hi, Mr. Halliwell, are we pleased to see you."

Wyatt shone a flashlight on the ground at his feet and smiled. "I'm going to kill Henry when we get back. How he passed his survivalist training is beyond me. He sent us three miles in the wrong direction, idiot."

"Couldn't he just sense for Ivan?" asked Nathaniel still gripping tightly to his gun.

"The whole area is warded against sensing. It's meant to be helpful should we ever have to abandon the compound, but it's a pain in the ass normally. The little ones decided to play hide-and-seek a few days ago. It took us a good few hours to find all of them. Come on, I'll orb you guys back. I think Anakin can deal with the trail you guys left."

Gratefully Rebecca took hold of Wyatt's offered hand. Nathaniel picked up Henry Jr.'s pack and grabbed ahold of her hand. Wyatt nodded to a figure in the darkness and orbed away. No sooner had they landed in a room with a crackling fire than Rebecca was nearly tackled by a bush of blonde hair.

"Watch the baby, Soph," called Rebecca, grinning.

Sophia pulled back from her hug. "Please, tell me it's not yours."

Rebecca huffed. "Really?"

Sophia threw her arms around Rebecca again. "Oh! It's good to see you. When we heard what happened in LA, I thought I'd never see you again. Oh my God, you have no idea how scary that was."

Wyatt stepped forward and waved his hand. Rebecca felt the cold and wetness vanish. "I can take Ivan to his daddy. We'll be in the main living room if you feel like seeing the rest of the group tonight. Otherwise, Sophie can show you to a free room. Er,—Nate, was it? You'll have to meet Anakin when he gets back so he can tune the wards for your magic. I can do it for mortals, but he's the ward expert."

Nathaniel awkwardly nodded his understanding and shifted from one foot to the other.

Rebecca removed herself from Sophia's hug and walked over to him. She deliberately grabbed hold of his hand and smiled. "They're not going to bite," she whispered.

Nathaniel, unfortunately, glanced around and spotted a glowering Matt. "You sure?"

"Everyone, this is Nathaniel Blake. Nate, this is, well, everyone," said Rebecca unhelpfully.

Sophia rolled her eyes and grinned. "I'm, Sophia, but call me Sophie. The guy over there glaring daggers at you is Matt, my boyfriend. Don't worry, his bark is worse than his bite."

Matt crossed his arms and turned away.

Sophia ignored him and continued on with introductions. "That's Andy and Danny, they're a couple. Um—let's see, Beth and Kenny over there are brother and sister. All that leaves is Rick, but he's—er—well, he's still not doing so hot. His twin brother died a few months ago."

Nathaniel nodded somberly. "Rebecca told me."

Sophia pulled Rebecca over to a couch, and Nathaniel drifted along with them. "So, there's a whole bunch more people; it's overwhelming. I've been here for a while, and I still struggle to keep everyone straight. Was that really Henry Jr.'s baby? I didn't know he had a kid. What happened after the attack? How'd you get here? How'd you meet Henry Jr.? How…"

"Sophie," interrupted Rebecca stifling a yawn, "it's been a long day."

Sophia mimed zipping her lips. "Sorry, it's just, never mind. I don't know how long Anakin will be. I can show you guys to your rooms?"

Rebecca covered her mouth as another yawn escaped. Bleary-eyed she motioned for Sophia to lead the way. She was looking forward to sleeping in a bed.

* * *

It was well past midnight by the time Anakin returned to the compound. The fire heating the main living room was just embers, and the house was quiet. He placed another log into the fireplace and coaxed the fire back to life. He summoned a glass from the kitchen and conjured a bottle of alcohol. He poured himself some of the golden liquid and settled down on the couch nearest the hearth. Taking a sip, he noticed he was not alone.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, summoning a second glass.

Henry Jr. rolled his eyes. "I'm long past having a bedtime, Annie."

Anakin handed him a filled glass. "You look like you need a rest."

"Were we tracked?" asked Henry Jr. after downing half the glass.

"I found no evidence of mortals in the area. The car's been destroyed. It's possible demons followed you, but if Lucifer wanted to attack the compound, he doesn't have to be told where it is. No amount of wards can hide my presence from him. Sarah's mother is performing her own sweep of the area."

Henry Jr. finished the glass and stared into the fire. "This is some fucked up shit we've gotten into."

Anakin nodded. "No more than normal."

"You're back from the dead. I'd say that goes well beyond abnormal even in this family," said Henry Jr. pensively.

Anakin lent forward. "Henry, why aren't you upstairs passed out like everyone else?"

Henry Jr.'s grip on his glass tightened. The muscles in his face twitched. "I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes—I—I…"

Anakin automatically understood what his youngest cousin was going through. "I still see Lucien in most of my dream."

"These aren't dreams, Annie. I'd call them nightmares, but it's all true. You weren't there. You didn't see. Between being a witch and working alongside the navy, I've seen a lot, but this was something else."

Anakin sighed and handed Henry Jr. the bottle of alcohol. "Why not start at the beginning? How'd you meet Catia?"

Henry Jr. trembled and heaved a sigh. He opened his mouth and started to tell his tale.

 _Lisbon was a beautiful city, especially at dusk. The sometimes oppressive summertime heat was slowly replaced by a cool sea breeze. The city lit up as streetlights turned on to illuminate the thriving nightlife. The natural beauty of the sunset contrasted superbly with the historical buildings. Ordinarily, he would be enjoying the view at a local petisco frequented by U.S. Navy servicemen stationed in the city, but tonight he was meeting someone._

 _He had met Catia during a tour of Portugal's newest naval cruiser. As he understood some basic Portuguese thanks to his sister's love of languages, he was selected to accompany the United States' admiral's entourage as an additional interpreter. The tour dragged on for hours as the Portuguese governmental delegation did their best to impress their honored allies and guests with the sophistication of the ship. He had zoned out and was staring across the main deck when he spotted her. She was dressed in a first lieutenant or primeiro-tenente uniform and was barking orders to a small collection of lower-ranking crewmen. He double-checked that the other two interpreters were not overwhelmed and separated from the tour group._

 _Catia had her dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was tall but not extraordinarily so. She easily filled out the unflattering military uniform and did not look uncomfortable being in a position of power. She clearly had pride in what she was doing, and the men and women around her respected her. Her blue-grey eyes snapped up from her crew as he approached and stared him down._

" _Boa tarde, me nome é Henry. Eu sou um tradutor americano em um tour deste navio…"_

 _She waved her men to continue their work and pulled him off to the side. "You should be with the tour group then. That pass doesn't give you the right to wander around wherever you please," she admonished in a thick accent._

 _Henry Jr. inward sighed in relief. He was reaching the limits of his mastery on the romantic language. "I know. I'll join them shortly, but I couldn't pass up the chance to meet someone as beautiful as yourself."_

 _Catia rolled her eyes. "Please, go back to the group and finish your tour. You're embarrassing yourself."_

 _Henry Jr. spotted the hint of a blush and chose to push his luck. "Come on, you can't just reject me like that. Unless you have a boyfriend?"_

" _No, I don't have a boyfriend," said Catia loftily._

 _Henry Jr. cringed. "Husband?"_

 _Catia laughed. "Please, is that what you think of women? If they don't want to go out with you, then they must have a significant other? Are you going to ask if I have a girlfriend next?"_

" _No, no. I don't have anything against homosexuals, but I'm getting a very strong straight vibe from you. My sister on the other hand…"_

 _Catia frowned. "You need to get back to your tour group. It's illegal for you to be on this ship unescorted."_

" _I'm not unescorted, I'm with you," continued Henry Jr._

" _You Americans never give up!" she snapped, but a smile played across her mouth._

 _Henry Jr. sighed dramatically. "Ok, fine you win. Do I at least get a name for the effort?"_

 _Catia pondered the question. "It's Catia, Catia Santos."_

 _Henry Jr. frowned. "Santos? Santos…Santos! As in Admiral Santos?"_

 _Catia nodded. "He's my father. Now, run along, little boy."_

 _Henry Jr. shook his head. "I've got to ask once more."_

" _You haven't asked me yet. I have tried to save you embarrassment."_

" _Coffee date? That's all. It doesn't have be anything more than that. I've been here for a few days now and haven't been able to explore the city. Maybe you can tell me some of your favorite spots," said Henry Jr. quickly, raising his voice when she opened her mouth._

 _Catia shook her head and smiled. "Fine. It's not a date. I'm on shore leave from tomorrow. Meet me at Belém Tower."_

 _Henry Jr. grinned stupidly. "Perfect," he said, pumping his fist in the air._

 _Rolling her eyes, Catia dismissed him. He hurried off to catch the end of the important tour._

 _The first coffee date turned into an all-night debate over which country brewed the best coffee. Henry Jr. was partial to Greek coffee, and Catia Ethiopian. It was an enjoyable evening, which only ended when the café's owner chased them off the premises. Catia was the one to suggest they meet up the following night for dinner and clubbing. Henry Jr. readily agreed despite being terrible at dancing. He had inherited his father's two left feet. His date took pity on him and eased his suffering by moving the date onto the street. Under the stars and flicking streetlight, they shared their first of many kisses._

 _Tonight marked one month since he met Catia. He easily picked her out of the crowd massing on the busier side of the street. He waved his hand, and she waved back. Even from this distance her beauty was unquestionable and stole his breath. He felt like he was back in high school with his heart skipping a beat and his cheeks heating up as she approached. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. He eagerly returned the kiss._

" _Noite, bonita."_

 _Catia smiled. "You're getting better. Where are we going?"_

 _Henry Jr. pointed to a building a few blocks away and then did the same in the opposite direction. "It's a surprise."_

" _You are horrible. You know I don't like surprises."_

 _Henry Jr. kissed the top of her head, inhaling. She smelt like lavender and something else familiar he could not place. "You'll like this one, I promise. I've been talking to your friends."_

 _Catia put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "Which friends?"_

" _I was sworn to secrecy." Henry Jr. checked his watch before linking his arm around her. "We should get going. How was your day?"_

" _You're seriously not going to tell me…"_

 _Henry Jr. shook his head. "Enjoy the moment, babe. Feeling the breeze. Smell the ocean. Bask in the hotness that is your amazing boyfriend."_

 _Catia laughed. "Someone's got a big head."_

 _Henry Jr. smirked but kept silent. Catia huffed and followed his lead. They strolled down the sidewalk, passing groups of celebrating friends and quiet couples. On a quieter street, he lead them to a nondescript door and knocked twice. A man opened the door and with a silly smile ushered over the threshold. It was a cramped but cozy apartment. A woman in chef's whites was busy in the nearby kitchen. The man gestured for them to take a seat at the single round table set for two._

" _Obrigado, Marcel. Parece perfeito," said Henry Jr._

 _Marcel bowed his head. "O jantar será servido alguns momentos e estaremos fora do seu caminho."_

" _There is no rush, Marcel," said Catia._

 _Henry Jr. pulled out a chair, and she sat down. He sat down opposite her. She laid her arm on the table and entangled her fingers in his. "This is amazing, Henry. When did you set this all up?"_

" _I had Marcel and Vanessa helping me plan for the past week. You always say that Vanessa is the best cook in Portugal, and I wanted this night to be perfect."_

 _Marcel reappeared holding a bottle of wine. "Drinks?"_

" _Yes, please, but you don't have to wait on us, Marcel."_

 _Marcel poured her a glass. "It's just to bring the food. The rest of the night is you being alone. We will come clean tomorrow."_

 _Vanessa stepped up and placed two plates of food in front of them. "Fillet with a reduced mustard sauce, new potatoes with a garlic aioli, fresh garden vegetables, and my world famous spicy prawns. Bon appetit. Come now, Marcel, the lovebirds should be alone."_

" _Thank you, V, it looks delicious," said Catia, catching her friends arm._

 _Vanessa smiled. "I'm happy for you. He's a real catch."_

 _Henry Jr. blushed. "This is amazing, Vanessa. You've clearly outdone yourself."_

 _Vanessa waved aside his compliments and pulled Marcel out of the apartment._

 _The door closed behind them. Catia stared at him across the table with a smile gracing her beautiful face. "This is too much, Henry. All I got you was some lousy cuff links."_

 _Henry Jr. chuckled. "Babe, you deserve so much more than this. This past month has been the happiest of my life, and it's all because of you. If I could give you the world, I would."_

 _Catia cringed. "A bit—er, what's the word…sappy?"_

" _I mean it. Every word. Now, let's eat. I'm starved!"_

 _They ate in silence. Neither needed to voice what they felt. Finishing the last mouthful, Henry Jr. led her over to the small wooden deck. There was a bottle of champagne, a blanket, and a telescope._

" _You remembered!" squealed Catia._

 _Henry Jr. nodded. "And you've got one of the best seats in the house."_

 _The Orionid meteor shower was an annual event, so they were not a rare event. They held a special place in Catia's heart though as her late mother would take her out of the city every year to watch them. It was a tradition they continued until she fell too ill to continue it. The week before her mother's death, Catia brought a telescope to her mother's hospital wing, and together they watched the meteor shower. Her mother's death brought a lot of sadness, but she chose to remember the good times. Those nights watching falling stars were among the times that burned the most brightly._

" _I know you told me you like to watch the shower by yourself, but I thought, maybe…"_

 _Catia shut him up by kissing him hard and passionately on the lips. They fell onto the made up sleeper couch. She straddled him as they continued their kiss. He ran his fingers through her wavy hair. His other hand settled on the small of her back. She pulled back, both hands clutched around his face, and smiled._

" _I don't deserve you, Henry Ivan Mitchell," she whispered, resting her forehead on his._

 _Breathing heavily, he shook his head slightly. "Don't be ridiculous. Catia—I…I've never meant another girl like you. I know we said we'd just do this and see where it takes us, but I don't—I can't stop thinking…I love you."_

 _Catia froze, looking him in the eyes. "What?"_

 _Henry Jr. gulped. "I wake up thinking about you. You're the last person I think about before I sleep. The dreams I remember are only happy if you're in them. We've only been together a month, and I might be rushing things. I don't need to hear…"_

" _Would you shut it, you silly man." Catia pecked him on the lips. "I love you too."_

 _The night slipped away along with their clothes. The telescope remained forgotten. That night was their first night together. It also changed Henry Jr.'s world irrevocably. For within a month's time, he received a phone call he never thought he would get. Catia was pregnant._

Henry Jr. slumped deeper into his chair lost in thought for a moment. He took a deep shuddering breath in and stared at Anakin with bloodshot eyes. "She was the love of my life. I always thought I never wanted kids. After everything our family has gone through, I could never bring a kid into that. All those thoughts and fears were forgotten the moment she said those three words. It didn't matter what our family's destiny and legacy was. I was going to have a kid with the woman I loved. I assigned temporary command of the NCIS Rota office to my second-in-command and took up residency on the Naval base in Lisbon within the week."

Anakin nodded. "She sounds like an amazing woman. I'm sorry I never got to know her."

"Those nine months were scariest and joyous I can remember. We moved in together after her father found out and extended to her the option of being dishonorably discharged or take an extended leave of absence until the baby was born. He got over his anger with time. Toward the end, I think he even accepted I was going to be a part of his family. I asked Catia to marry me, but she refused. She did not want me to ask out of necessity or to waddle up the aisle. She said she'd reconsider after. She never got the chance to." Henry Jr. hiccoughed, and his voice sounded strangled.

"What happened after Ivan was born?"

 _Henry Jr. walked into the private hospital room with a massive teddy bear under one arm and a bouquet of sunflowers, Catia's favorite, in the other hand. He stopped in the doorway to take in the sight. Catia lay with her eyes closed, breathing soundly and deeply. Their tiny baby boy lay on her chest also asleep. He put down the presents and strode over to the hospital bed. He bent down to pick up Ivan._

" _Who—Henry?" asked Catia groggily._

 _Henry Jr. stroked the hair out of her face. "Go to sleep, babe. Ivan is sleeping and safe."_

 _He picked up Ivan and held him in his arms. Catia slipped off back to sleep after seeing Ivan was alright. Henry Jr. gently rocked the baby as he slowly walked around the room. He still could not believe they had made this beautiful and fragile little human. His heart filled with raw emotion every time he looked upon his son. He knew he would do anything to keep the little boy safe and happy. Just like he would do the same for Ivan's mother. They had known each other for less than a year, but he could not bear the thought of losing her._

 _Someone knocked on the door._

" _Come in," whispered Henry Jr._

 _Admiral Santos stepped into the room with a bundle of balloons floating above his head. He met Henry Jr.'s eyes. His stern look softened slightly when he spotted his grandson. "How are they?"_

 _Henry Jr. bobbed his head. "Tired, but well. The doctor said it'll take some time her to recover. It wasn't an easy delivery, but they're both out of the woods, sir."_

 _The admiral frowned. "You gave me a grandson, Henry. I may not like the fashion and order things have happened, but the formality is tiresome. Call me, Carlos."_

" _Would you like to hold your grandson, Carlos?"_

 _The admiral nodded. Henry Jr. handed his son over to his grandfather. The balloons floated to the roof. Henry Jr.'s stomach growled._

" _Go get some lunch. I'll stay with them."_

 _Henry Jr. wanted to protest but thought better of it. "Thank you. Do you want anything?"_

" _I'm fine."_

 _Henry Jr. left the room. He knew the man he would soon call father-in-law needed time alone to bond with his son. He did not like the idea. He hated every moment spent away from Catia and his son, but he knew it was necessary. The admiral was a formidable man and meant a great deal to Catia. He needed to remain in the man's good graces if he stood a chance with Catia. He made it to the hospital café and ordered some generic burger and fries._

 _Half way through his burger he felt the first inclining something was wrong. Someone with powerful magic was nearby. He closed his eyes and tried to sense the person or demon, but they were cloaked. Instead, he stood up and started for the doorway. A woman in a white business suit and copper colored hair stepped onto his path._

" _Leaving so soon, Henry?" asked the woman._

 _Henry Jr. frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Do I know you?"_

" _No, but I know you and your family." The woman extended a stiff hand. "Best sit. There's no need for things to get messy."_

 _He allowed himself to be herded back to a table and sat down. "Who the hell are you?"_

 _The woman grinned coldly. "I am a representative of the United State's government. I have come to ask why one of our top law enforcement officers has abandoned his duties without informing his superiors."_

 _Henry Jr. cocked an eyebrow. "I know everyone in the SecNav's office and along with all the personnel my director would send in her stead. You may be a part of the government, but you've got no right asking those questions. Or rather, you don't have the authority to force me to answer them. Now, I really need to go."_

 _The woman's eyes grew hard. "Sit. We need to discuss how things are going to proceed. One does not simply abandon one's post without an explanation. My boss was most concerned. You were a rising star. Someone, he felt, he might be able to rely on. How unfortunate I find you here."_

 _Henry Jr. felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Who the hell are you?"_

 _The woman's eyes flashed a dangerous feline yellow. "I'm the last face you'll ever see."_

 _She attacked. Her hand transformed into a deadly weapon of powerful and sharp talons. He blinked and rolled back, flipping over his chair and crashing into a passerby. He slammed his hand onto the ground. A rune burned itself into the ground beneath his palm. A downward flick of his wrist and he held an athame in the other hand. The woman blinked in confusion at the loss of her animalistic arm._

" _Sorry to disappoint, but I've been around the block a few times."_

 _The woman stood up and produced a gun. People screamed and ran, creating chaos. She fired, and he dove out of the way. He rolled behind a broken bench, hearing two bullets bury themselves into the bench. People on either side dropped to the ground; blood pouring out of bullet wounds. Still the woman continued to shoot, wounding more bystanders._

" _Come out and play, witch. I rather enjoy snuffing out the lives of these flies, but they do not need to suffer. I am here for you. Hand yourself over, and that pretty little navy brat upstairs makes it out of here alive."_

 _Henry Jr. gritted his teeth. "Leave her alone!"_

" _Gladly, drop the weapon and step out into the open." She punctuated each syllable with a gunshot. "What did you do? What is this symbol?"_

 _Henry Jr. rolled out from where he was hiding and threw the athame. It sunk into the hand holding the gun. She dropped the gun and dropped to the floor, screaming. The café was littered with bodies. Henry Jr. stood tall and walked over to her summoning another athame. He reached the demon and kicked her in the face. She fell back, sprawled on the floor._

" _It always surprises me how pathetic you guys are without your powers. Now, who the fuck are you? Who sent you?"_

 _The woman laughed, but he put an end to her rant by plunging his blade into her chest._

" _I don't have time for games, bitch. Tell me what I want to know, and I'll end this quickly."_

 _The woman cursed him out. "You'll pay for this, witch. I am Isis, the greatest of Lucifer's Ennead."_

 _Henry Jr. paled. "What? Lucifer?"_

 _Isis scythed his feet out from under him in his distraction. She ripped the athames out of his body and dropped them to the floor as she stood on her feet. "Yes, he is back, Henry. You were there during his last rise to power. You remember the horrors. They will be nothing compared to the destruction he will unleash this time around. He already has two of your precious nephews captive. He wanted you captured, but he will understand if you died while resisting."_

 _Coughing, Henry Jr. summoned one of the athames to him and threw it at Isis. It hit her in the eye. She screamed and released a blast of magic that shattered his negation power. Two shirtless demons appeared beside her. They both had round yellow eyes and skin the color of a rotten flesh. On their bare chests were cared runes of power and destruction. Each had four massive horns, two growing out of their foreheads and one for each shoulder. Their canines reminded Henry Jr. of vampire fangs._

" _Search the hospital. Find his girlfriend and her father and slaughter them. Bring the child to me."_

 _Henry Jr. rose. "NO!"_

 _Isis turned her attention to him and flicked her hand. A table rose up behind her and crashed into him, knocking him unconscious. The last thing he saw was Isis removing his athame from her eye and handing it to one of the demons. He awoke to find himself restrained. Isis stood in front of him grinning._

" _Now, the bomb will destroy this building in one minute and thirty seconds. Your bonds will release you ten seconds after I leave. Try and save your son in that time. It is too late for his mother and grandfather. My associates are animals, and they take a hellish pleasure in the kill. Goodbye, Henry. I hope to meet you again."_

 _Isis vanished. He struggled against his bonds, but they held firm. Ten seconds passed, and the ropes melted away. He wasted no time and orbed to Catia's hospital room. When he materialized he found himself in a room better off in a Hollywood horror movie. There were blood and guts everywhere. Half of the admiral's head was skewered on a spike. The other half lay trampled into the floor. His body was too destroyed to make out. Henry doubled over, overcome by nausea. Heaving, he added the contents of his stomach to the décor. He ears were ringing._

" _CATIA!" he screamed in the vain hope of finding her alive._

 _No one answered him. He knew no one would answer him. There was too much gore on the floor, hanging off the ceiling, and smeared on the walls to come from one man. He shakily walked over to the bed. The sheets were soaked in blood. Blood dripped onto the floor. Blood was everywhere. The remnants of a ripped open pillow covered the place he had last seen Catia's sleeping face. He knew he did not have time. There was a bomb somewhere, and he had not found his son. Still, he could not stop himself. He brushed aside the feathers. They had not been kind to his beloved in her last moments. Her lips were removed, leaving behind a grotesque smile of teeth. Her eyelids were taped open revealing two empty sockets. Her eyeballs lay on the bedside table._

" _No," he murmured, covering his mouth. "No…no…"_

 _The scene sapped his desire to continue to live. In that moment, his son did not exist. All his mind could comprehend was the two eyeless sockets staring up at him accusatorily. He sunk to the floor, not caring about the blood. His hand reached out and automatically caught him from collapsing. Instead of feeling the slippery stickiness of blood his fingers disturbed a large pile of ash. The ringing in his ears turned into a gut-wrenching wailing._

 _He blinked. Tears blurred his vision, but he knew that sound. He had heard it often over the past day. His son was nearby. He shook his head and swallowed the sobs. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees. His other hand swept away another pile of ash. Both demons were vanquished. Somehow, the monsters were dead. They had not captured his son. Isis had said he could save his son. His son was here, alive. He needed to find his son._

" _Ivan," he coughed._

 _He pulled himself to his feet. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew they had but a few moments. He spotted a pile of blankets unsoiled by the terrors of the room. He stumbled over to it and gasped. In it lay his tiny baby son screaming blue murder but alive. He pulled his son into his arms and orbed just as the shockwave reached the room obliterating the horrors within._

"My God, Henry," muttered Anakin speechless.

Henry Jr. gave up on the glass and downed the last half of the bottle. "Now, you know why I can't sleep."

Anakin nodded. "Have you told your family…"

"No. And you can't! They don't need to know. I don't want them to know. Annie, I love this family, my family, but after your death I couldn't be around them, any of them. We speak on Christmas and birthdays. I returned for weddings and major anniversaries, but we're not close. I don't need to burden them with this. I've survived this far…"

"They'll want to know. Henry, whatever you may think about our families, they are still our families. They love us. They love you. No matter what the past held. Your sisters love you. Your mother loves you. Your father—he loves you. We don't have to suffer through this life alone, you least of all. Ivan is going to need his father. He'll need his family. Now is not the time to remain divided. I won't tell a soul what you told me, but you should." Anakin said kindly but firmly.

Henry Jr. threw the empty bottle into the fireplace. "That bitch will pay."

Anakin stood up and sat back down next to his cousin. "She's dangerous. You won't kill her alone. It'd be suicide to try."

"So, it's true. Lucifer is back. This—this Isis is his? I've been on the run so long. News is difficult to come by."

Anakin squeezed his hand. "Yes, Lucifer is back. He had Matt and Zach as captive, but we got Matt back. Isis is the result of his latest attempt to create his own creation. Think Zankou, only a hundred times worse. But that doesn't matter tonight. Tonight, you need sleep."

With those final words, a pulse of calming blue energy drifted down Anakin's arm and followed over Henry Jr. Henry Jr. slipped off into a dreamless sleep. Anakin orbed him to his bed silently before summoning Uriel. The Power appeared in the chair he had recently vacated.

"Why go after his son?"

Uriel shrugged. "There are many rituals that require untainted magic. Any firstborn in this family would possess a formidable amount of power."

"So did he get what he wanted?"

"It did not sound like it. Most rituals require the child to be present. I am surprised Isis would give up on her task, but perhaps the child overwhelmed her. It was certainly powerful enough to vanquish two devils, not an easy feat."

Anakin sighed. "I thought we destroyed all the devils."

"It would appear not. It is no matter. You can train them in the art of killing those beasts. What is important, is keeping the babe out of Lucifer's hands. Its death would be the most secure method of ensuring the result."

Anakin growled. His eyes changed color and glowed. "Go near the child, and I'll destroy you."

Uriel lowered his head. "Then ensure the child's safety. This compound may withstand the casual assaults my brother has so far thrown at it, but its defenses will crumble when faced with a real threat. Now, that you and the child are here he is more likely to focus his energies in procuring both of you."

Anakin looked into the fire. "I'll get right on it. What of your search?"

"It is still fruitless. I will inform you of any change." Uriel faded away.

Anakin studied the dying fire for a few more moments before trudging upstairs for what he assumed to be a restless night sleep.

* * *

Matt was on a mission the following morning. Most of the other teens headed off to his aunt Sarah's family's house for some sort of training. After assuring he would join them later, he began his search for the two teens not amongst the rest. Rebecca and Nathaniel had not come down for breakfast. He checked the room he suspected they had slept in. The bed was unmade, but the room was empty. He scoured the rest of the house without any result. Finally, he turned his attention to the gardens. He ran into the two underneath one of the massive, ancient oak trees.

"Morning, Matt," greeted Rebecca airily, resting her head against Nathaniel's chest.

Matt pursed his lips. "A word. Please?"

Rebecca cast her eyes up at Nathaniel. "What's wrong?"

"In private."

"Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of Nate," said Rebecca friendly.

Annoyed, Matt ran his fingers through his hair pulling at the ends in frustration. "Wha—why'd you leave?"

Rebecca sat up slightly. "Leave?"

"Yes, leave. Why'd you leave us?"

"It was your family that left, Matt. Your family, that decided to hide out here rather than in the city. I didn't leave. I was left behind. Of course, they asked me to come with, but it was never really a choice. My family was in the city. My mom and dad—I thought…they weren't a part of this world, Matt. I couldn't drag them into it because of some high school relationship." Rebecca's voice quivered with emotional strain.

Nathaniel laid a hand on her shoulder. She reached up and squeezed it in thanks.

Matt shook his head. "That's bullshit. So what if your family wasn't a part of this. Being in that city made them a part of it. Staying placed them in more danger than being here. Here you would've had the protection of my family, of Zach's parents."

Rebecca's eyes hardened, and she glowered at Matt. "My parents—there was no choice. I chose my family, just like you would've chosen your own. Don't deny it. I know it's true. For fuck's sake, you don't give a shit about why I stayed. If you did, you'd be wondering what happened to my parents. No, this is about some goddamn hissy fit that I'm with Nate instead of pining after your cousin."

Matt reeled back, eye widened. "Reb…"

"NO!" yelled Rebecca, shaking with suppressed anger. "I waited for Zach, but after weeks of being scared and alone I accepted the worst. No one thought you and Zach were still alive, not really."

"Clearly someone did," snapped Matt with venom. "Why else would they have tried to rescue us?"

Rebecca blinked, paling. "I couldn't have known that. I wasn't in contact with your uncle Anakin. All I got was reassurances that no one else was dead from Sophie."

"Don't you dare blame this on her," hissed Matt.

Nathaniel stood up and placed a warning hand on Matt's chest. "Let's just…"

Matt blinked his eyes, and Nate stumbled backward. "Touch me again, and you'll find yourself with a broken finger or two."

Anakin stepped into their view. "Am I interrupting?"

Matt balled his hands into fists and glared at Rebecca. "No. We're done."

"Well, then you should go and greet our latest guest, Matt," suggested Anakin in a tone that clearly stated he was not fooled.

"Who's here?"

Anakin crossed his arms. "Grandpa Victor. Your dad just arrived with him."

Matt nodded and left not sparing a second glance for the other two teens. His hands still clenched tightly.

Anakin sighed. "So, you're Nathaniel? My brother told me a little bit about you."

Rebecca brushed aside some furious tears. "Y—yes."

"Nice to see you again, Rebecca," greeted Anakin.

Nathaniel wrapped a protective arm around Rebecca. "Is there something you need from us?"

Anakin frowned. "What? Oh, no. It's more something you need. The temporary spell cloaking you from the ward is wearing thin. I just need to tune it to accept your magic, but since you're not family I need to view your aura first."

Nathaniel bit his lip. "View my aura?" he asked, confused.

"It's a simple process. I focus my sensing ability on you and your magic will automatically flare creating a visual fingerprint if you like of itself," explained Anakin.

"What do you need me to do?"

Anakin held out his hand. "Just take my hand."

Nathaniel reached out. As soon as his hand connected with Anakin's, color flared to life surrounding him. Two primary colors shone brightest a hazy aquamarine and golden yellow. Strands of pink and maroon faded in and out with the pulse of his heart. Intertwined with the other colors was a silvery cord that sparked when it caught the light. Anakin let go of him.

"When did you discover you were a witch?" asked Anakin casually.

"Um—a few years ago. Why?"

Anakin chewed his tongue. "That silver cord. It's the mark of a powerful and unique coven of witches. If you ever saw Sarah or her mother's aura something similar would appear but golden and more pronounced. Basic colors, blue, green and alike indicate elemental abilities. The more nuanced colors, periwinkle blue, for example, are reserved for the powers associated with witches or warlocks. The blacks and grays and nastier reds are produced by demons and their kin. Finally, there are the metallic colors."

Nathaniel fidgeted nervously. "What…" he trailed off unsure how to asked his question.

"Most metallic colors are correlated to instinctual forms of magic. Shamanism can be viewed to fall here, so can projection. Gold—gold, I've only ever viewed three people with gold in their auras. They were all skinwalkers, shapeshifters, or destined to be so. Silver is slightly more common, though extremely rare to see in a witch. Silver, ironically, is the color for the werewolf curse."

Nathaniel coughed. "What?"

Anakin raised his hand. "Relax, it doesn't mean you're a werewolf. The nature of the werewolf curse saps away all other forms of magic. It is why it is incurable. A witch who is bitten would no longer be a witch but a werewolf. Now, there were a group of witches and warlocks from Scandinavia who found a way to manipulate the curse, turn it around from a weakness into a strength. They forced the curse to channel into their magic and strengthen their abilities rather than drain them away. You, Nathaniel, are a descendant of the Maras."

* * *

AN: So what did you think? It was rather gruesome, but I thought you all deserved a bit of action. Action in my head leads to gory scenes. I hope I didn't gross you out too much.

What do you guys think of Nathaniel? And what are Maras exactly? All will be revealed soon, but I'd love to see what you think about all of it.

The next chapter has a bit of a party followed by two deaths of some major characters to balance everything out. Take your guesses who if you dare.

Until next time, remember you are the best, honest!


	5. Legends Never Die

AN: Alright I owe everyone an apology. This should have been out sooner. Sorry.

* * *

LEGENDS NEVER DIE

It had been weeks since any of the teens had set foot off the Compound. There was an understanding of the dangers of the new world order, and there was simple fear after everything they had been through. In the end, though, they were still teenagers. To teenagers, rules were made to be broken, adults to be tested. So, after about a week of being cooped up on the Compound, they began sneaking off occasionally to the nearby town. They had stopped after Amber's family set off for the East Coast.

Tonight, though, was a unique night for Danny. It was his official birthday, the one on his birth certificate. Until he was six, he celebrated his birthday on this day with him dads and friends just like any other normal child, but his sixth birthday was the last one. After that, he decided to make the day he was adopted his birthday. No one but his dads knew his real birthday, and they respected his wishes. Nevertheless, he decided tonight he would tell Andrew the secret. He felt like they should not have any secrets between them. It just so happened the Halliwells were having a big reunion party or planning session. He was not sure which, but he knew it meant they would be distracted.

He dragged Andrew away from the festivities early. Borrowing one of the rusty cars on the premises, they drove into town without incident. The town was slightly larger than a one traffic light town but not by much. The post office doubled as the bank and convenience store. Some brave soul had built a single screen movie theater next to the sole rundown and boarded up church building. The theater was only open on the weekends. Three bars in various states of repair made up the rest of the building on the main street. The only other proper street in the town dead-ended in front of the newer brick school building. The old school building had been destroyed by a tornado a few years prior. Along the second street were a half dozen curio shops and two gas stations intended to attract road-trippers into town. There was a total of two restaurants in town, the diner on the outskirts near the freeway and the steakhouse.

"We could've eaten at the party," said Andrew for the thousandth time as he perused the menu.

Danny rolled his eyes. "It's a special occasion. Let me spoil my boyfriend for once."

Andrew's cheeks reddened slightly. "Ok, fine, whatever. I'll have the steak, medium-well—um—with the—what's the vegetable of the day?"

Their waitress, a pudgy old woman who stank of stale cigarettes, grunted. "Green bean."

Andrew pulled a face. "Nope—I'll stick with the mash potatoes, thanks."

The waitress turned to Danny, impatiently tapping her chewed up pen on her notepad.

"I'll have the same, but make my steak medium rare. Thank you."

The waitress repeated her noncapital grunt and waddled off in the direction of the kitchen.

Andrew sipped on his diet soda. "So, are you going to tell me what we're celebrating? I've run through the usual possibilities. I don't think I've forgotten an anniversary unless you count that time when we—you know…"

Danny chuckled. "I remember it fondly, but no it's not that. I—um, well you know I'm adopted."

"Yeah, but that's not until four months from now. I know. I checked with your dads. Did you guys plan it to be on your birthday—or—was it lucky coincidence?" rambled Andrew, playing with his straw, clunking ice against his glass.

"Now that you mention it…"

Andrew's eyes grew large. "You've got to be joking. You guys actually planned it that way! No way."

Danny held up his hands to stop the verbal torrent. "Drew, please, just shh. Ok? I wasn't adopted on my birthday."

"But…"

"Uh," interrupted Danny, shaking his head, "I changed my birthday to be on the same day as my adoption. It's when I feel like I really became me. I found my family that day, and I wanted it marked as a big day. When my dads filed all the paperwork they petitioned the courts to change my birthday. It's not done often because it screws up all sorts of records, but my dads are very good lawyers. So, after my sixth birthday I never celebrated my birthday on the day I was born again. Only my dads and I know that date. Well—er—them and now, uh, you," finished Danny lamely.

Andrew frowned. "Wait, so a six-year-old chose not to have a second birthday every year?"

"Drew," started Danny exasperated.

"No, no, wait. I mean I understand the sentiment. It's cool and nice and whatever. You expect me to believe a six-year-old made that decision?"

Danny nodded, slightly annoyed. "Yeah, I did."

Andrew grinned like a maniac. "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

"You're an idiot," snapped Danny, smiling.

Andrew shrugged. "Yeah, well, I may be an idiot, but I'm the idiot that got you all hot and bothered last night."

Danny groaned. "Seriously, dude, not in public."

"What? Mr. Gay Pride isn't comfortable…"

"I'm fine with everyone knowing we're a couple. They don't need to know all the details of what we get up to behind closed doors."

"Or not behind closed doors. I'm still waiting for David to tell his mommy what he saw."

Danny cringed. "How do you know he hasn't?"

"Because we've still got our heads attached to our necks. Mrs. Ingerman strikes me as the violent type when it comes to her son."

Their food arrived. They ate and ordered desert. When it arrived Andrew held up his empty glass. "Well, happy secret real-not-real birthday, babe. I love you."

Danny half-heartedly lifted his glass. "You are an idiot."

Outside, Danny wrapped his arm around Andrew's lean waist as they wondered down the street. Despite it already being late autumn, the air was not unbearably cold. They still ducked into the sole open shop to warm up after ten minutes.

"Did you notice that Matt changed his shirt between dinner and the party?" asked Andrew while admiring a hand-carved owl sculpture.

Danny shook his head. "No, but I'm not the one with a crush on him."

Andrew laughed hollowly. "Nothing to be jealous about, babe; it's perfectly normal to look. Seriously, though, he changed shirts. It's weird. The kid never changes outfits during the day. I had to wrestle him into a shirt and tie once before he went out on a date."

"I'm sure you enjoyed that."

Andrew scoffed. "Totally besides the point. Although, he was a sight for greedy eyes. No, no—don't distract me. Don't you think…"

Danny shrugged. "Drew, I don't know Matt as well as you. So he changed his shirt. It's not the end of the world."

"Fine, but I'm telling you something was up. Did you see the way Rebecca was glaring at him? He looked very confused with the whole thing. Do you want something? Call it a born-day present."

The brass bell on the corner of the shop's door jingled, announcing the entrance of another customer. Danny stepped in closer to Andrew to see what he was looking at.

"Not any of that shi—er—stuff. No, I'm fine, and when we're back with everyone you promise to lay off the corny jokes. I don't want everyone knowing about this."

Andrew leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. "My lips will be sealed. Although, perhaps later tonight I can unseal them and give you a real present."

"Gutter! Everything with you is about sex."

Andrew arched an eyebrow. "You've looked at yourself in the mirror, right? You've seen the chiseled chest and firm abs. Don't get me started on your backside especially in those jeans. It's a significant achievement that I haven't jumped you yet."

Danny blushed. "Wo—er—thanks. You look hot, too."

Andrew picked up a wooden puzzle box. "How about this to annoy the little ones? No way they can solve this one."

"They've got—you know—, dude. They going to solve any of these games by snapping their fingers," Danny said in a whisper. "You're just wasting your money."

Andrew's grip on the box tightened. "I'm getting it. This time, I will find a puzzle they can't solve."

Danny sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Andrew stepped up to the counter to pay. Danny followed him and browsed the collection of chapsticks and mints on the cluttered front counter. Neither of them paid any attention to the gangly young preteen approaching them. The boy was a head shorter than Andrew and no more than skin and bones. He wore clothes far too big for his small frame.

"Oi! You!" he yelled gruffly.

Danny turned around and appraised the boy. He felt slightly sorry for the kid, but Danny did not have time to respond to the boy's rude shout. The stranger reached behind himself, pulled out something long and shiny from his back pocket. The flickering lights of the shop flashed off the silvery surface of the bent and crooked dagger. The boy wrapped his fingers tightly around its simple dull metal grip. With surprising speed and accuracy, he reared back and chucked the knife at Danny. As he did, Danny heard a shout to his right and felt more than saw movement toward him.

The sinister looking blade spun over itself. Every cycle visible to Danny; time slowed to a crawl as if to allow him to feel the terror of seeing his impending death. On the dagger came, flipping over and over, straight at him. A strangled cry formed in his throat but never escape. He willed himself to move, to duck, to do anything, but he was rooted to the spot, staring at the flying weapon.

Inexplicably, Andrew was in front of him, diving in between him and the deadly blade. Danny felt as if his feet had been encased in blocks of lead; he could only watch the scene of horror fold before him, completely helpless.

With a sickening, wet thunk, the dagger slammed into the center of Andrew's chest, burying itself to the hilt. The blond screamed, fell to the floor, and convulsed, knocking shelving to the floor. Dark crimson blood spattered from the wound. His legs slapped against the floor like fish out of water. His feet kicked aimlessly as if to stave off onrushing death. Red spit dribbled from between his pale lips. Danny felt the world collapse around him, crushing his heart.

He fell to the ground, forgetting about the boy and everyone else. He pulled Andrew's shaking body into his arms.

"Drew!" he screamed; his voice felt like barbed wire ripping through his throat. "Andrew!"

Andrew trembled uncontrollably, spreading blood everywhere, wetting Danny's hands. His eyes rolled back up into their sockets; dull white orbs stared back at a fitful Danny. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

"Drew—," called Danny in a whisper. There had to be something he could do. He could save him. He could not lose him, not like this.

Andrew stopped convulsing and stilled, going almost limp. His eyes slid back into normal position. With great difficulty, he focused on Danny, clinging to life. "Dan—ny," he struggled to say.

"Hang on Drew," said Danny. "Don't die—fight it. Someone get help!" He was almost hysterical.

The remaining patrons did not move. The shopkeeper stared down at the scene in shock. Deep inside, Danny knew the truth. Nothing could help now. It was over. Black spots swam before Danny's eyes. They sung with boiling tears. The room tilted and swayed. _No_ , he thought. _Not Drew. Not Andrew. Anyone but Andrew._

"Danny," gasped Andrew. Each breath was a battle "It's…not…" A racking cough burst from his lungs, spraying a pink mist of blood into the air between them. "It's not—your—f—f—fault."

He did not flinch. His eyes slid closed almost tranquilly. His already slack body went completely flaccid and relaxed. One last breath wheezed out of his mouth.

Danny stared down at him, clutching tightly to his best friend's lifeless body.

Something happened within him. It started deep down in the pit of his stomach, a seed of rage, of revenge, of resentment. Something dark and terrible built up inside him, swallowed his heart, and exploded, bursting through his body compelling him into action.

He let go of Andrew, stood up, and quivering, turned to face the small boy. He snapped, losing any sense of conscious thought. He rushed forward, threw himself on the boy. Grasping with his long and strong fingers, he found the boy's throat and squeezed. He did not care that the boy's eyes bulged out of their sockets. He did not care about the screaming. They fell to the ground with Danny on top. He straddled the boy's torso, gripped him with his legs so he could not escape. Danny started punching.

He held the smaller boy down with his left hand, pushing down on the boy's neck, cutting off his air. With his right fist, he punched the boy's face, one after another, down and down and down. He kept slamming his balled up knuckles into the boy's cheek and nose, ignoring the pain. There were only anger and white-hot rage. A crunch signified the breaking of bones, and blood began to pour out of the boy's disfigured and flattened nose. Horrible, strangled, and pained, screams reverberated through the small shop. Danny did not know who was louder, the boy or himself.

Suddenly a tall and strong someone was pulling him away. His arms and legs flailed wildly as he continued to try and inflict as much damage as possible. He fought the man, squirmed, and yelled to be left alone. The man ignored him, creating a safe distance between him and the boy. His eyes remained on the boy lying in a pool of blood, dead still. He could feel the hatred pouring out of him, clouding his vision until only the boy's body remained.

Just like that, it all vanished. Something in him flipped over and only thoughts of Andrew remained. He threw off the man's grip and ran to the spot he left Andrew's lifeless body. The pool of blood marked the place, but the body was gone. He dropped to his knees. The impact jarred his teeth together, but he did not care. He needed Andrew.

"No!" screamed Danny, sadness consuming him. "NO!"

Someone was next to him. He tried to shake the hand off his shoulder, but the person was insistent. Tears blurred his vision. His heart aches. It was impossible to take in another breath. He could not believe Andrew was gone. Great racking sobs echoed through the shop like the sounds of a tortured pain. The person next to him bent down and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"It's ok, babe. I'm ok."

Time did not slow; it froze. Danny did not dare move for fear of breaking the spell, of returning to reality.

"Imp—impossible."

A man approached them, holding up the still bloodied blade. "We need to go," he said softly.

Andrew pulled Danny to his feet. "The kid?"

"Brainwashed. Powerful spell." Anakin slipped the blade into a back pocket. Blue eyes continued to search the nearly empty room. People had scattered since the attack started. "I healed him and wiped his memory, but he's most likely going to be killed by whoever convinced him to kill you."

"Shouldn't we take him…" Andrew trailed off.

"Take him where? We can't just kidnap him. We don't need that sort of scrutiny. Lucifer may not have direct control over every aspect of mortal life, but he can still use them to do his dirty work. The less the people of this town think about us and the rest at the Compound, the better. It is why we specifically told all of you to not come into town." Anakin lead the way out of the shop onto the deserted street. "How's he doing?"

Andrew shook Danny gently. "Hey, you ok?"

"You were dead," muttered Danny hollowly.

"Very nearly so. His heart and brain were dead, but his spirit was still lingering. Thankfully, I can still heal a person in that state. I'd hate to think what Zach would do when he's rescued and finds out his best friend was dead."

Danny rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "How'd you know to come?"

"There is very little that happens in the Compound that I don't know about. I felt the two of you leave and had a feeling I should follow. Plus, those copper rings we asked you to keep on your person allow me to know when you're in trouble." Anakin turned down an alley covered in bottles, needles, and worse.

Andrew followed. "Thank you."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Anakin shrugged. "You're family. Come on, let's go. I've got a feeling this was just the start of what Lucifer has planned."

The two shaken teens grabbed hold of Anakin's offered hand. Together they vanished in a flurry of dark blue orbs.

* * *

Isis stood beside a very quiet and thoughtful Lucifer. Her creator and master stared deeply into a bowl of luminescent rolling liquid. She could not tell what he saw, but she understood the purpose of the magical bowl. In an effort to make the mortal witch feel safe, Lucifer had designed the wards protecting his room to keep anyone the witch did not trust absolutely out. The witch spent a great deal of time in his room. The bowl let Lucifer spy on the witch without setting off the wards.

"Have we found the great-grandfather's remains?" asked Lucifer in a monotonous voice.

Apep stepped out of the thick shadows he shared with Set. "We have found the remains of another. I fear the grandmother may have foreseen the dangers those bones could pose and disposed of them in a manner rendering them useless for our intentions."

Lucifer's sparkling eyes flicked up from the bowl. His lips thinned. "The blood bond is important for the potion."

"It can be replicated. We will need the blood of the mother or grandmother and galangal to complete the potion," explained Apep humbly.

Isis stifled her gleeful smile. She loved when her brethren failed; it gave her the opportunity to further elevate herself. It was not very hard to prove time and again she deserved her position as Lucifer's second-in-command. Sekhmet, Montu, and Mafdet were too simple minded. Mafdet and Anubis were clever but unimaginative. Apep was smart, and she had thought a legitimate contender for Lucifer's trust. He had proven himself, however, to be something less than his potential. The only member of their circle she had to fear was Set. The spymaster hardly spoke up and never failed in his mission. He also had the advantage in raw power.

"Perhaps, someone more cunning should conduct a second audit of the burial files," suggested Isis.

Lucifer shook his head. "No, you may succeed where Apep failed, but it would take time. Zachary is near a tipping point. I need the potion completed before the next new moon. Besides, I need to pay Anakin a visit. He needs reminding of the fire he is playing with. Apep, start the potion; I will provide the blood shortly. The rest of you get the mortal world back in order. It is chaos out there. We do not need the Halliwells gaining allies."

Isis remained behind as the rest of the Ennead gratefully retreated from Lucifer's presence. She waited as Lucifer dismissed the bowl and settled down on his rarely used throne. She bowed her head as she approached.

"Speak you mind, Isis," sighed Lucifer.

"Would not an attack on the Halliwells distract young Zachary? You have promised to leave his family untouched."

Lucifer nodded. "As long as they remained out of my way. Anakin has proven time and again to be a thorn in my side. His actions, however subtle, are a distraction. I do not need to be distracted. We are building a new world order. The last pockets of heavy resistance have fallen. It is time to rebuild. I need the Halliwells distracted. I need them too fearful of losing one of their own to stick their noses out of their hideaway. I had hoped Zachary would have capitulated to his darker urges before now, but he is a Halliwell. We adjust."

"Why bother with the little witch? Why try and turn him?"

Lucifer's smile turned into a knowing smirk. "Jealous, my daughter? You have little to fear. He will never replace you, but he is a remarkable specimen. His willing presence by my side will do much to weaken those who would stand against us."

"Then why bother with the potion?" asked Isis curiously.

"It will strip away the only danger he poses to my plans regardless of his ultimate decision," said Lucifer with a tone of finality.

Isis considered her creator for a moment. "Shall I provide a distraction for the witch? He needs to work on his conjuring."

Lucifer shifted in his seat. "Oh, that will not be necessary. He has already found a far more effective distraction."

"The Phoenix bitch?"

Lucifer's smirk expressed his self-satisfaction. "Killing two witches with one fireball."

Isis rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "I do not trust those assassins. They allow their loyalty to be bought."

"They sell their talents to the highest bidder. Their loyalty is to their clan. As long as we have their matriarch hanging next to Rahab, they will not dear threaten me and mine."

Isis scoffed. "Anyone who can work for a person one day and his enemy the next does not know the meaning of loyalty."

Lucifer cracked his knuckles impatiently. "The Phoenix stays, Isis. Is there anything else?"

"Anubis needs the latest data out of Los Angeles to report to the Senate," said Isis slipping into her business voice to hide her disdain.

"Sekhmet is in charge of clearing the Southwest."

Isis nodded and glanced down at a notepad she produced out of thin air. "The werewolf clans requested a peace summit."

Lucifer bared his teeth. "Inform them the only peace accord I will be willing to sign must stipulate their complete and utter surrender to my rule. They possess no intelligence or powers I require. They have nothing to barter for a better deal. What of the Old World vampire covens?"

"The Covens in Budapest and Moscow have conceded defeat and recognize you as their leader. The London house and Berlin are still proving to be resistant to our persuasion. Paris and Rome were unfortunately destroyed. Set has something against being fed on."

"Set had orders to annihilate two covens on his choosing. What of the original King and Queen? Their decision would prove vital to bringing London into the fold." Lucifer summoned a ruby encrusted dagger from the wall display. "Have Set present this as a gift to Selene. I am sure she would welcome having her family heirloom back. Then inform Anubis you require an audience with the President. It is time to attack the Halliwells from multiple fronts."

Lucifer stood up, and his form shifted. His hair grew an inch or two and his eyes darkened into chocolate brown. His skin lightened a few shades. His physique reverted to the lanky and slightly awkward shape of a teenager whose muscles had not caught up to his height. His jaw became more angular; his cheekbones more pronounced. He gained a pair of simple stud earrings.

"What do you think?"

Isis folded her arms. "They will not be able to tell the difference."

"Make sure the two mortals are able to make it off the Compound. Then create a scenario that draws Anakin away. Use whoever you need to accomplish our goals. Keep Zach in the dark. Perhaps, inform Indra she should keep him occupied in his bedroom for the day. I sense they've just left." Lucifer conjured a more suitable outfit and slipped into it while he spoke. "And remind the Dark Priestess, it is Indra's time of the month. She will require another round of potions."

He vanished before Isis could voice her shock. Fertility potions were dangerous even in the best of scenarios. The child born because of such magic almost always is unstable. For Lucifer to be resorting to drastic measures meant he was concerned. She had never seen him concerned. Licking her lips thoughtfully, she strode out of the room to follow his orders.

* * *

Kenny sat near the descent-sized bonfire Wyatt, Chris, and Michael Ingerman had built. He was technically supervising the younger kids as they roasted marshmallows and made smores. David, Alex, and Peggy were doing most of the work. He was simply on hand to keeping anyone from setting themselves or anything else on fire. He had volunteered for the assignment in a vain hope it would keep his mind occupied.

"Kenny, make the fire turn into a dragon again," begged Pippa, sitting down next to him, mouth and face covered in melted chocolate.

Her twin sister, Philomela, followed her and also voiced her choice of animal. "No, make it look like a pretty unicorn."

Pippa rolled her eyes. "No, dragons are cooler. Come on, Melly! He's a boy. Boys don't like unicorns."

Kenny smirked. "Oh, really?"

Pippa nodded her tiny head authoritatively. "Davy told me so. He said ponies and unicorns are girly and for babies. Big kids liked aminals like strong dragons and scary dinosaurs."

Kenny laughed despite his heavy heart and patted Pippa on the head. "Big kids can like ponies, kittens, and unicorns, especially unicorns."

He waved his hand and a few of tongues of the fire rose higher into the air and twisted until they formed the figure of a galloping unicorn. The fiery steed ran around the fire a few times before settling in front of them and snorting out glowing embers. Kenny reached out and touched the unicorn's head as the magic holding the flames together faltered and the figure disintegrated. The two little girls giggled happily and clapped their hands together.

"Again, again," they said in unison.

"Unicorns were Amber's favorite, weren't they?" said Beth joining them.

Kenny nodded and let his powers generate a dozen swan-sized birds. The inanimate creatures flew around them and played games of chase with each other to the delight of the little kids. Kenny kept his eyes on his creations in an attempt to stem any further discussion on the topic of his girlfriend.

"Phoenixes?" asked little Phebe. "Mommy says phoenixes are the most prettiest birdies ever."

"Your mommy has good tastes," said Beth, one-arm hugging her brother. "How about a dragon next?"

The phoenixes dive-bombed back into the flames and the fire died down slightly. Kenny blinked and a massive dragon leaped out of the dying fire and circled them high in the sky, spreading a dazzling light across the entire garden. Even the adults stopped to admire the display.

"Shouldn't waste your powers like that," said Matt walking past.

Kenny frowned at the tone and directed the dragon to return to the fire. He turned to talk to Matt but found him around on the other side of the gathering of adults, talking to Sophia. The teen must have sprinted the distance. The little kids realizing the show was over slipped away to keep themselves entertained. Beth kept an arm around him and lay her head on his shoulders.

"Do you miss him?" asked Kenny after a few moments of silence.

Beth nodded without lifting her head. "It's not fair. We had only a few months together. I shouldn't be this messed up after losing a guy I dated for a few months. Kenny, what's wrong with me?"

Kenny placed his hand on her knee and squeezed. "There's nothing wrong with missing someone you loved."

Beth sniffed. "Love sucks."

"Tell me about it." Kenny kicked a stick into the fire.

"She'll be back, Ken."

Kenny pulled a face. He did not want to talk about it. "They didn't have to go at all."

"It's their family. You've got to understand they had to go."

Kenny sneered, "whatever."

Beth sat up. "If it was Mom and Dad would you have gone?"

"Don't be stupid, Beth. Mom and Dad are right there."

Beth waited for him to look at her. "They were just going to check up on their family, and then they'll be back. There is nothing wrong with that."

Kenny's hands balled into fists. "They're not witches. They went out there where they're undefended. She could get hurt—or killed, and I'm here hiding away, making pretty pictures for a bunch of kids. There's a lot of wrong with that! The world isn't safe out there. Or have you forgotten what it did to Mike?"

Beth paled, and Kenny immediately felt terrible.

"Sorry, that—sorry."

Beth sighed. "She'll be fine. There's no reason for them to be targeted. Like you said, they're not witches."

Rebecca and Nathaniel walked up to them. Kenny noted Rebecca had her fingers interlinked with Nathaniel's. He pursed his lips but bit his tongue. It was not any of his business.

"Mind if we join you?"

Beth patted the log next to her. "Not at all. How are you doing?"

Rebecca bit her lip. "Have you spoken to Matt?"

"Yeah, at dinner. He was going on about his little sister. Why?" asked Beth.

Rebecca shook her head. "No, it's nothing. I was just wondering."

"He's right over there." Beth pointed at Matt. He was pulling a face much to the delight of his younger cousins. Sophia stood next to him laughing.

"No, it—it can wait. How are you guys doing? We're—er—sorry about Mike."

Beth gave her a stoic smile. "Thank you. It's hard, but he died defending his family."

The girls continued to talk while Kenny sized up Nathaniel. The boy was taller than Zach and had a rounder nose. He also had the same look in his eyes that Zach got when he gazed upon Rebecca. Kenny had heard some of the hell the two had been through from conversations with Sophia and others. He knew the boy did care for his friend. He could not hold the situation against him.

"So, how's your first day been so far?"

Nathaniel jumped, startled at being addressed. "What? Oh, um, interesting?"

Kenny rubbed his hands together. There was a nip in the air even this close to the fire. "How so?"

"Have you heard of a Maras?" asked Nathaniel distracted.

Kenny shook his head. "Can't say I have, but I don't know much about magic. I'm adopted and only discovered I had powers a couple of years ago. My contact with the magical world until the Halliwells was not very pleasant. I tried to shy away from my powers and anything to do with them."

Nathaniel breathed out heavily. "What are you?"

"I'm an elemental, but I also have the ability to shimmer. No one's given an explanation for that trick."

"Right, shimmer? That's a de—uh…"

Kenny shrugged. "It's ok, you can say it."

"That's a demonic power."

"Yip, I guess my birth mother wasn't just a member of The Order like my dad said in his letter."

Nathaniel's eyes grew wide. "The Order? You're sure that's what he said."

Kenny nodded leaning in closer. "I've read the letter a million times. Why? What's The Order?"

"Well, there was a group of demons that called themselves The Order. They tried to kidnap Wyatt when he was a baby. They were all vanquished or at least that's how the story went." Nathaniel chewed on the inside of his cheek. "If your birth mom was part of The Order, she was a very powerful demonic sorcerer."

Kenny hunched his shoulders. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Not that it makes a huge difference. I'm not planning on becoming a member myself, and the only demonic power I have is shimmered."

"Yeah, I'm not one to judge, bud. I just learned I'm a fucking werewolf."

Rebecca turned her head slightly. "Keep the swearing to a minimum. There are little kids around."

Both boys chuckled.

"So, how come you're all knowledgeable on this magic sh—uh—stuff?" asked Kenny.

Nathaniel was visibly more relaxed as the conversation progressed. "I went to Magic School during the summer. My great-grandfather from my dad's side was a witch. On my third birthday, I managed to send a chef's knife flying through the air and into the birthday cake. My dad figured he better get me some training before I hurt someone. My twin sister was very jealous she didn't get any powers."

Kenny smirked. "Beth wasn't very happy when I told her I had powers. What are your powers?"

"I have a weak form of premonition. It lets me see a second or two into the future during combat. My active power is called metallokinesis; I can control anything that's metallic. It works best with metals that are magnetic. In a pinch, I can cast some spells, but it's not my forte. And now, I guess, I should add that I can turn into a werewolf or something."

Kenny brow furrowed. "You—um…what?"

Nathaniel bit his lip, hard. "When Anakin was viewing my aura earlier to tune the wards, he discovered that I'm a Maras. They're these Scandinavian witches who were turned into werewolves but somehow altered the curse. It's all very confusing, and Anakin didn't explain much."

"He has a habit of doing that," said Prue. She was leading a collection of grump looking children. "It's bedtime for them."

Alex stomped his feet. "But it's not fair, Auntie Prue!"

Prue shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry, kiddo, but your parents say it's bedtime. You can play tag tomorrow. I'll make sure Matt plays with you."

Pippa ran up to Kenny and hugged him. She quickly gave him a wet and sticky kiss on the check before being bulldozed out of the way by her sister who copied her actions.

"Thank you, Mr. Kenny, for making the unicorn and dragon."

"And phoenix," added Phebe sleepily. She was holding Prue's hand and yawned rubbing her watery eyes.

Beth and Rebecca stood up. "Need any help, Mrs. Halliwell?"

Prue nodded. "That would be wonderful, and I've told you, it's Prue."

Kenny smiled at Pippa and Philomela. "Good night, girls."

"Night, night, Mr. Kenny." The girls let themselves be herded back in with the rest by Beth.

Rebecca kissed Nathaniel on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here," said Nathaniel, eyeing Kenny.

Kenny purposefully looked away from the display of affection.

Nathaniel wet his lips. "You have a problem with Rebecca and me as well."

Kenny pursed his lips and considered his answer carefully. "It's nothing against you, dude. You seem cool, and you obviously care for her a great deal, but—but I—er—I'm Zach's friend."

Nathaniel crossed his arms and heaved a sigh. "I didn't—I wouldn't have started up with her if I'd know Zach was still alive. When we—after everything that happened, Rebecca, she needed someone to be there for her. She thought Zach and Matt were gone forever."

"Look, dude," interrupted Kenny, "it's none of my business. As long as she's happy, that's all I care about. It's just going to take some getting used to is all."

Nathaniel chewed on his cheek. "What about Zach?"

"Zach can fight his own battle, believe me. That whole mess will be between the three of you when he's rescued." Kenny focused back on the fire.

Nathaniel settled deeper into his chosen seat. "Matt's not happy about it."

"Matt? Why'd you say that?"

Nathaniel glanced in the teens direction. He was busy talking to his great-grandfather, smiling and laughing. "He came and had a yelling match with Rebecca earlier."

Kenny folded his hands in his lap pensively. "Seriously? That doesn't sound like him. He's very protective of his family especially Zach, but he wouldn't just go off on you. Besides, Sophie would chew his head off if he did."

"Well, he did. If Anakin hadn't arrived when he did, I think it might have come to blows. Rebecca was fuming afterward."

Kenny wiggled his fingers and embers danced around in front of him idly. "When did this happen?"

"Right after breakfast, before Chris arrived with Mr. Bennett."

Kenny sent the embers soaring into the air. "Weird. Matt was with me most of the morning. He was helping me hone my control over air. He did slip away for a minute or two to use the bathroom, but—are you sure it was after breakfast?"

Nathaniel nodded emphatically. "I think I can remember being made to feel like a thief and an adulterer."

"What are you talking about?"

Both of them jumped. Right behind them stood Matt.

"Er, nothing."

Matt glared at Nathaniel. "Shouldn't you be crawled up in a hole somewhere?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest, Matt!"

Matt's eyes flashed. "Why? He…"

"Er, Kenny…" Nathaniel pointed in the other direction.

Kenny stared in the direction and gulped. Standing next to a wheelchair-bound Victor Bennett was Matt with an arm wrapped around Sophia's waist. Most of the adults were in that general direction too far to see the three teens. Kenny turned back to face the Matt behind him.

Matt blew air through his lips quickly. "Damn, the gig is up."

Kenny watched in shock as the Matt before him grew a few inches. His hair shortened and lightened slightly. Eyes gained a green hue to them. Teeth whitened and straightened. Fingers lengthened. The man who had been Matt cracked his neck casually.

"Hello, Kenneth. Nathaniel, you were supposed to be dead by now," said the man cheerily.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked Kenny, still searching for a way to raise the alarm without getting himself instantly killed.

Nathaniel stood next to him, pale as a sheet. "That's impossible. The ward…"

Lucifer chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Those wards are child's play. Try as Anakin might, he is not a Power."

Lucifer snapped his fingers, and chaos erupted as six devils sprung out of black and white flames, surrounding the adults. Kenny wasted no time. He waved his hand in the direction of the bonfire and then at Lucifer. Truck-sized tongues of angry red flames leaped out of the fire to do his bidding. The tongues transformed into charging rhinoceroses as they rushed Lucifer. Lucifer held out a hand and massive boulders sprang out of the ground. The flame-filled rhinoceroses crashed into the boulders and splattered. Licks of heat washed around the three figures, harmlessly.

"Impressive, Kenneth, most impressive. Zachary always speaks most highly of your skills."

Nathaniel raised his hand and muttered something under his breath. A collection of sharp kitchen instruments popped out of the night sky and flew at Lucifer. Lucifer flicked his right wrist and something glowed underneath his thin white sleeve. Suddenly, he held a deadly looking sword wreathed in odd flames. The flames appeared to be sucking color and light into themselves from the surroundings. The Power easily batted aside the kitchen utensils.

"Now, now, Nathaniel, you should not play with sharp objects. You might cut yourself," taunted Lucifer, banishing his sword.

Thick green vines wrapped around Nathaniel's legs and held him in place. Kenny threw a fire ball at Lucifer as he tried to remove the vines. His control over the earth was almost nonexistent, and against the will of a Power he may as well tried to free Nathaniel with a spoon. Deciding the vine were not an immediate threat, he focused on Lucifer. He knew he stood no chance against the taller man in a head-to-head contest, but he might be able to distract the fallen angel until help arrived. He prayed one of the Halliwells would come to the rescue soon. The cries of anger and pain did not bode well.

"You could join me, Kenneth. You could save your sister, mother, and father from a lot of heartache and pain. All you have to do is bow before me. I need an elemental at my side. You would not be alone; you would be with Zachary," offered Lucifer pleasantly.

Kenny straightened his shoulders and bared his teeth in defiance. "I'd rather die."

Lucifer took a step closer. "There are far worse things I can do to a person than kill them. Just ask, Matthew."

Lucifer splayed his fingers, and Kenny dropped to the ground, screaming in pain. Sharp pops echoed in the air, and the teen's screams increased in intensity. Lucifer lowered his hand and turned to Nathaniel.

"You, I have no use for, sorry."

Nathaniel growled, and his eyes glowed a feral orange. From far away in the shadows something large and predatory let out a terrible roar. All of Nathaniel's muscles contracted, dropping him to the ground. He would have curled into a ball, but the vines held his legs in place. It felt like every nerve fiber in his body was on fire or dipped in a pool of acid. The world's color hue shifted and simplified into reds and blues. He opened his mouth and let out a deafening growl.

"A Maras?" Lucifer observed with fascination as the well-built teen writhed in pain and slowly transformed into a large and majestic feline with blue-black fur.

"A werepanther to be specific," said Suyana, approaching the group.

Suyana no longer was a battle-worn old woman. She was a massive pale grizzly bear with furious brown eyes. She opened her mouth and bared her massive canines. Claws designed to open up her prey's stomach with ease left deep gouges in the ground.

Lucifer bowed with his whole upper body. "A pleasure to meet the only mortal to vanquish a naagolishii and survive. You have my deepest apologies for the intrusion on your territory, Great One. It could not be helped."

Suyana pawed the ground. "Leave and take your pets with you, daemon."

Lucifer straightened back up and smiled. "Not until I have what I came for. Since when does a shapeshifter allow a were-animal to trespass?"

"He has the blessings of the tribe to be on sacred grounds. You do not. Be gone, shadow. Leave and do not return," she commanded.

"An evocation may work with my creations, Great One, but I am made of tougher stuff. I bathed in the essence of the Creator for eons before this pathetic plane of existence was even a glimmer in His eye. You may hold a great deal of power, but I am power. Return to your own. I swear I wish no harm on your family or tribe."

"You have my grandson," growled Suyana.

Lucifer pinched his nose. "He chose to remain with me. Now, really, I am asking you nicely. Remain and I will not be responsible for my actions."

"Perhaps not, but you won't be leaving here unscathed," echoed a voice across the whole valley.

Lucifer laughed loudly. "Cool trick, Anakin. Has my brother taught you anything else?"

Anakin appeared beside Suyana, holding Excalibur, which blazed with a white flame tipped with flecks of royal purple. "Quite a few actually."

Lucifer eyed the sword hesitantly. "This is a warning, Halliwell. Stay out of my way, and you can live out your life in peace. Continue to meld in things far beyond your comprehension, and I will exact retribution far too terrible to imagine. Tonight is but a taste of what I will do to your family."

"NOOOOOO!"

Anakin's head snapped in the direction of the blood-curdling scream, his mother's scream.

Lucifer cocked his head to one side. "Heed my warning, Anakin." He vanished with the telltale inversion of colors of a Power That Be.

Suyana transformed back into her human form and bent down next to the unconscious Nathaniel, still in his panther shape. "Go, I can take care of these two." She started a chant in an unknown language.

Anakin turned to face Danny and Andrew. "Go to the house. Make sure everyone is safe."

He did not wait for an answer. He raced down the gradual decline until he reached the collection of people. No one was left uninjured. Those without powers suffered the worst injuries, being unable to defend themselves. He spotted Chris kneeling over the body of Kyle, glowing hands outstretched. Sarah and Wyatt were kneeling beside his mother. Piper, Phoebe, and Paige were all huddled over another body. The nearby wheelchair told him whose body it was. He stopped in the center and turned his head away from the sight.

Devils were horrible creatures. They delighted in killing their victims in the most elaborate and gruesome manner. He had seen victims straggled with their own intestines. Often limbs were ripped off and used to crush the owner's skull. One particularly inventive devil had peeled apart its victim.

His grandfather was not the worst body he had seen. The devils were clearly intent on being efficient rather than imaginative. Victor's neck was nearly completely severed and his heart had been cut out for good measure. Anakin ran his fingers through his hair as the wave of loss and guilt washed over him. He met his mother's swollen eyes.

"They killed him. Annie, they killed him," she choked out between sobs.

Anakin dropped to his knees and the tears started to flow.

* * *

Set had many disguises and forms he could slip in and out of with little thought or effort. It made his preferred method of accomplishing his goals simpler and a lot less bloody. He was not against killing, but there was a time and a place. Lucifer wanted to rule the mortal world. That implied there would still be a mortal world to rule.

For his appearances before the Senate as Isis's aide, he opted for the appearance of a man in his mid-twenties. His blond hair was buzz cut to fit the backstory of being a former Royal Marine. Grey eyes flecked with blue stared back at him in the overly polished floors of the hallway. He stood head and shoulders above everyone else. Ordinarily he preferred his aliases to be more nondescript, but Isis drew enough attention to herself in those red high heels and tight white business suit.

"They agreed to investigate the Foundation. The ex-spymaster, however, still holds too many allies or knows where too many skeletons are buried. They refuse to antagonize him," said Isis breathlessly.

Set narrowed his eyes. "You are the sitting chairperson for the joint Congressional Committee on Homeland Security."

Isis smirked at him and flipped her hair. "Precisely why I was able to gain access to the exact location of the Watson stronghold. Take a division of demons and put an end to their activities. Should the elder Watson be home, kill him. The death of such a prominent figure will be all the motivation the mortals need to put an end to the Halliwells."

Set flexed his fingers in annoyance. "You are not…"

"I have Lucifer's ear on this matter. Do as you are told." Isis stepped in close and nibbled on his ear. "And try to look pleased. I am giving you the opportunity to rid our creator of one of his greatest pests."

Set growled. "Don't think your physical appearance can win me over, sister."

Isis wrapped her dainty fingers around his upper arm and squeezed gently. "Hurry and you may catch me with an opening in my busy schedule. Do not fail in this, Set; we need Watson's influence removed."

Set mocked bowed as shadows engulfed him transporting him back to his potions lab deep beneath Alcatraz. The room was set up more like a cramped science laboratory with all the modern technology and glass beakers. The one difference sat in the far end. He had labored and searched the globe for the best of each ingredient to build his personal ritual altar and gateway. The stone was from the foundation of the oldest of the Mayan temples, soaked in blood from their darkest rituals. The gold and silver marking the runes and pentagram were forged from pieces of the Ark of the Covenant. Other pieces stemmed from important relics of mortal religions. Human faith was an unlimited power source.

Apep, in his preferred massive inky black snake form, slithered right through the locked door. His tongue tasted the air, and his hisses expressed his enjoyment. "Here to summon more of those goons?"

Set held out a single finger and twitched it back and forth. A large wound opened up across Apep's neck. "I have warned you to not enter without my permission, snake."

Apep transformed into an old man with shocking white hair and a large nose. Despite the obvious advanced age of the body, he stood tall. Hesitantly he rolled his head from side to side as his dark green blood boiled and sealed the seal, leaving a neat scar.

"And I have warned you to not antagonize me, dog."

Set laughed hollowly. "Go find a rat to feed on. I have a job to do."

Apep hissed. "Playing lap dog for the bitch? How—predictable."

"I do as Lucifer commands. You would do well to remember he could easily unmake us if we prove to be less than capable. I have proven my worth by providing an army. What, pray tell, have you contributed besides keeping the vermin at bay?"

Apep's mouth opened, and fangs flipped forward to replace his human teeth. "Try me."

Set yawned mockingly. "Your threats bore me, Apep. If you could take me down you would have. I know how much you want my powers. Unfortunately for you, I am immune to most of your brutish gifts. Be gone. I have some devils to conjure."

Apep slunk forward, eyes glowing a hateful yellow. "Those devils are useful, sadistic bastards, but I know your weakness. For every one of those creatures you invite into this plane you lose a tiny piece of your essence. Lucifer made us powerful, but that power can only be spread so thin."

Set eyes blazed with a dark purple flame. "Did you work that out after your fumbling excuse of summoning a true demon. How long did the glob last? Your skills are too crude to weave the necessary power to open a portal. I may lack base power, but I am a master of intricacy. Those devils do not rely on my essence to survive the crossing. Why do you think, father, let me expand our collection of ancient ones?"

The pentagram glowed and caught alight as a devil twice the size of a normal human pulled itself out of the rock. Its gray skin was cover in white ash, and smoke rose off its four horns. It blinked solid white eyes in the two Enneads' direction.

"You called, Lord of Storms?" The devil's voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

Set ignored the gaping Apep. "Take a few of your younglings and kill any demon, witch, and mortal unlucky enough to cross your path." He waved his hand, and the devil popped out of the room.

"That was a Devil Lord," whispered Apep in awe.

Set nodded nonchalantly. "The reborn witchlighter seems to have a knack for killing the younglings, and Isis did say we could not fail in this mission."

Apep shivered. "Not even father dared unleash the likes of a Devil Lord. You are a fool, brother."

Set snapped his finger and a broadsword emblazoned with a soft pure white glow appeared on his lab bench. "The brother sword to Excalibur, the sword used by the guardian to the Garden. It was lost during the great flood. I found it during my excavations abroad. The tip was broken and so I re-forged it using the Spear. Not even a Devil Lord can survive a strike from it now."

"Still, they are monsters."

"Any monster can be tamed given the right motivation," said Set slyly, banishing the sword. "Come now, Apep, I thought you enjoyed chaos."

Apep shivered again and melted away in silence. Set smirked and turned his attention to one of the many concoctions bubbling away. Far away a creature wrapped in ash and shadow slaughtered an entire city before vanishing into the night.

* * *

AN: What did you think? Let me know in a review or PM. To all my American readers and friends, Happy early Thanksgiving! To the rest of the world happy Wednesday.

Thanks to everyone who is sticking with the story. Your reviews make me smile.


	6. See Inside The Darkness

AN: So here it finally is! This chapter has slightly stronger language than usual, but after the blood and guts in the last few chapters maybe a few curse words will be a nice relief. Sorry for the later than usual posting...between my beta's schedule and my own it's been a bit of a headache. I'll stop my whining now and let you get to the chapter.

* * *

SEE INSIDE THE DARKNESS

Anubis's human form, like most of his brothers', was on the taller end of the spectrum for height. After months of planning and blackmailing, he was the proud owner of an office within the hallowed halls of the United States of America Congress. The aftermath of the previous week, a deal struck between Lucifer and the governor of California decades previous moved him out the outer office and behind the desk of the former representative for the district of San Francisco. His own wheeling and dealing landed him with appointments to the House's Ways and Means Committee effectively making him one of the most powerful and influential members of the lower House. Despite his new position and authority, he still found himself running errands for Isis.

Currently, he was rounding up the final few votes to transform the investigational hearings into the Foundation's activities into criminal proceedings of sorts. They needed to dismantle the Foundation's networks and to do so required granting powers to the joint FBI and CIA task force to arrest and detain indefinitely the Foundation's top Board members, namely Christopher, Sarah, and William. Isis felt without those three the rest of the Foundation would crumble. Unfortunately, the three were ridiculously popular on the Hill despite their known connections to magic. Isis had managed to easily garner the support of the Senate and the House to conduct hearings; she failed miserably at transforming that support when criminal charges were brought into the equation.

Anubis paused briefly in the hallway outside the office of the minority leader's offices. He straightened his business suit and reeled in his emotions. His eyes had a nasty habit of turning into the soulless voids that amounted to eyes in his true form when his emotions ran close to the surface. Thankfully, he was not often riled into anger or vengeance as easily as his brethren. He could see the usefulness of the sly and silent approach over brow beating his opponents into submission.

The office's doors opened and a young legislative aide exited the room. He smiled politely at Anubis and bustled down the hall, two phones glued to both of his ears. Anubis slipped into the bustling office and took in his surroundings. At least a dozen mortals were scrambling around either on the phone or typing away on their beloved tablets. The deadline for the annual federal budget was looming. He stepped up to the desk of the office secretary and cleared his throat importantly.

The old woman lowered the mouthpiece of the telephone and looked up at him expectantly.

"I have an appointment with Representative Sanchez."

The granny's lips thinned, and she gave him a hard glare. "The Congressman is busy."

Anubis gave her a disabling smile. "I understand his time is precious, so is my own. Please, inform him Congressman Vosloo is here to see him. He is expecting me."

The woman glanced at her computer screen. "He is expecting your call."

"I understand that, but I prefer face-to-face meetings. I find it is easier to gauge how the conversation is going."

"He is having lunch with his wife. You'll have to wait," said the secretary, and she returned to her phone call.

Anubis sighed and folded his arms. He lifted a single finger and twitched it. Smoke wisped out of every electronic object in the office. The activity in the office paused for a confused moment before chaos broke out. Smiling, Anubis stepped around the secretary's desk and knocked on the closed oak doors once before entering the inner office. Representative Sanchez sat at his next alone, sipping on soup. A television off to the side continued to blare out the score and commentator's remarks on some sports game.

Anubis shut the door behind him. "Good afternoon, Sanchez."

Sanchez was a tiny man in his late sixties. He had lost most of his hair and what little remained was a ghostly white. He had developed a comfortable round stomach from the numerous five-star meals he was treated to on a regular basis. To the casual observer, he appeared to be a poor candidate to be the leader of the minority party, but Anubis saw the calculations and shrewd wisdom the man hid behind his casual attire and attitude.

"Vosloo, my man, how is your new appointment treating you?"

Anubis settled down stiffly into one of the chairs across from the desk. "I hope I am not interrupting your lunch."

Sanchez placed the nearly empty bowl on the desk and sat up straight in his chair, removing his feet for the desk. "Not at all. Not at all. What has brought you to my humble abode?"

"The attack on the Watson stronghold has a great deal of the public concerned about their safety and their government's ability to protect them from the magical threat," said Anubis smoothly.

Sanchez bobbed his head. "Of course, but the Department of Magical Affairs is handling the investigation of the attack. The President issued an address urging the public to remain calm. There is little else to do until we find out who was responsible for the attack."

Anubis tilted his head to one side. "The joint Congressman Committee of Homeland Security has requested we remove our objections to bringing in some of the Foundation's board members for questioning."

There was a moment of calculated silence before Sanchez reacted. He burst out laughing and slapped his hand on his leg. "That's funny. Here I thought you were here on something important especially interrupting my lunch hour."

Anubis cocked his head to one side and gave Sanchez a predatory glare. The seasoned politician gulped, and his near-constant smile slipped off his face. Anubis raised one eyebrow and took a step closer to the desk.

"This was not a request, Sanchez. I am here out of a mild level of profession respect. You have worked hard to gain your position. I would hate to see a lifetime of blood and tears and two failed marriages go to waste. My backers and allies find you for the moment a capable leader and easy enough to work with. Stand in their—our way and you will find them and myself a whole lot less friendly."

Sanchez sunk into his chair for a source of comfort. "Are you threatening a sitting United States Congressman, Vosloo?"

Grinning, Anubis leaned heavily on the desk, allowing a bit of his power to show in his eyes. "I do not threaten, Sanchez. I am explaining the situation to you. The current Speaker's limit on his deal with my boss is coming to an end. Follow my lead, and you will find yourself in his seat within the year."

Anubis stood back up. "Remove your objection, Sanchez. The rest of the party will follow your lead. Fail to comply, and your days in this city could be counted on a single hand." He turned around and left the stunned Congressman.

* * *

Nathaniel stood out on the frost-covered ground with bare feet. He wrapped his similarly clad arms tightly around his chest to conserve what little body warmth he could. He felt terribly self-conscious and with good reason. His short experience with his transformation had taught him his clothes rarely survived the process. In order to preserve his last few precious outfits, he had chosen to continue his lessons dressed solely in loose fitting underwear. He had slippers initially, but his last attempt had shredded the pair into a useless pile of fluff and cloth.

He was not a stranger to being cold. His dad was from Montana and loved to go hunting. He used to drag Nathaniel along. Nathaniel enjoyed the time alone with his dad but despised the hunting portion. The early mornings up in the mountains often carried with them frost, ice, and a biting wind. He closed his eyes and willed his muscles to stop shivering uncontrollably. His teacher did not look upon any sign of weakness well.

Suyana Ingerman stood ten feet away from him dressed in robes made out of thick animal hide and furs. Her brown ursine eyes studied him with inhuman precision. It felt like she was sizing him up, deciding if he was worth the effort of killing or not. He knew a powerful predator was watching him, one used to being the top of the food chain. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow adding a few more wrinkles to the aged skin on her forehead.

The wind picked up. The trees around the clearing creaked in protest. The sky above them darkened considerably. A massive winter storm was forecasted to cover the region. A distant clap of thunder added to the ominous situation. He reminded himself he had asked for the help; he needed to learn to control whatever he was. He had a feeling it would be important. It started to drizzle.

"You will never learn to control your magics if you cannot control your mind, your body. The ancient energies you harness to do your tricks are far too dangerous for the unfocused and undisciplined. Learn to distance yourself from the physical. The cold, the wet, they are nothing. Pointless distractions."

Nathaniel gritted his teeth to keep his retort unvoiced. She had been admonishing him with similar mantra nonsense for the past three hours. Her sayings were always followed by a guttural and ancient call to arms. She breathed out, and the sound reverberated into his core, summoning his out nature. He cried out as the icy numbness was replaced by the acidic burning over his skin. It rippled. The bones in his fingers broke and fused back together, distorted.

"Focus your mind, your will."

Nathaniel balled his misshaped hands into fists or tried to. Paws were not designed to form fists. He dropped onto all fours and arched his back. Every time she summoned out his were-animal the process became more painful. Beyond the sharp spiking pain, a deeper more noxious feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, something akin to being kicked in the testicles and finding out the worst news in the world. It blotted out the rest of his senses.

The roar of Suyana's command cut through the pain. "ENOUGH!"

He looked up at her from his position on the floor. The world had the same narrowed color hues he associated with his panther's vision, but there were flickers of the true world still. He blinked and concentrated, focusing all of his desire and thought on the one apparently simple task. It felt like someone was digging around in his eyes with a rusty nail, but his vision switched back to something more human. He glared at his mangled hand, and it popped back into its original form.

Suyana bent down and grabbed his hand roughly flipping it over. "A start. You put up more of a fight, but you are still too distracted. Practice your mediation techniques. We will try again tomorrow."

Nathaniel struggled to gather his body back beneath him. His bones creaked and popped. His muscles protested the slightest movement. Suyana held him down.

"You've exhausted your energy supplies. Here, drink this."

She handed him a mug of a smelly steaming liquid. He sniffed it and pulled a face. He knew better than to protest, though, and blew on the surface before taking a sip. It tasted like mud and bitter slime, but as it slid down his throat he felt some of his exhaustion melt away. He took another sip and the knots in his muscles eased.

Suyana conjured a rustic-looking stool and sat down, pulling her cloak tighter around her small frame.

"Is it always this difficult?" he asked, taking a third sip.

Suyana sighed and pondered him. "For most of my kind, the first transformation is painful and forced by a time of great need. The power to transform, to be a shapeshifter—it is not a curse for my own kind. The gift carries with it a heavy burden. It designates one as the tribe's defender and protector, but it a gift bestowed upon the worth by the Ones Above."

Nathaniel lowered the mug. "But I'm not a shapeshifter?"

"Not in the sense that I am using the term. There is a different term for what you are and what I am in my native tongue. For the white man, the difference between one monster and the next can be too confusing. Anything different gets lumped together. It is no different than the term witch. You use it to describe both the Halliwells and say the Potters, but they are most certainly different beings of magic. Give Wyatt a wand, and he'd be powerless."

Suyana waved her hand, and the mug vanished. Nathaniel frowned, chewing on his cheek. "So do you know what you are doing? If I'm so different?"

"At its core, all magic is the same. The ability to use it—to control it, isn't different. It is a matter of exerting one's own will over an archaic and ancient energy that exists all around us. The strength of will—focus and self-discipline are of far greater importance than the intricacies of one power versus another. How did you learn to control your metallokinesis?"

Nathaniel rubbed his hands briskly over his bare arms. "Practice."

"No, focus and discipline. You trained your mind. Most need 'practice' to do so. Others—others are…different. They don't need the physical repetition to build the mental pathways."

"You're talking about Anakin," said Nathaniel insightfully.

Suyana nodded once. "The young Halliwell is a creature—a monster—I have never encountered before. He is mortal but can act like one of the Powers. It is why I chose to train you. There are few beings in the world that can wound something that powerful without being a Power. I am one. I believe you might be another. I've met other Maras during my studies abroad. You are something more than what they were."

Nathaniel frowned deeply and stared down at the cold ground. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. I am not a shaman. All I know is when you transformed that night both the Dark One and Anakin were wary. It's a predatory instinct. They were in another's territory, and you became a further unknown. You may be the difference between annihilation and defeat one day."

Suyana stood up. "Head back to the houses. Rest. Tomorrow we will teach your panther to fight." She vanished, and a roar from a giant bear echoed in the distance a moment later.

Nathaniel stood up amazed at the lack of aches and pains. Every day prior he had hobbled his way back from the clearing. Today, he felt refreshed and energized. The tea or potion did its job. He gathered up his clothing at the edge of the clearing and got dressed quickly. The loose-fitting tracksuit pants and plain black hoodie were instantly hot. Kenny had charmed his clothes to stay warm in an effort to expand his elemental abilities. He had to remember to thank the younger teen.

Sophia and Matt came jogging down the path heading back up to the houses a moment later. He waved, and they slowed down. Sophia pulled a reluctant Matt o a stop when they reached him.

"How was training?" asked Sophia good-naturedly.

Nathaniel eyed Matt. The teen shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "It went better than yesterday. She didn't throw me across the clearing at least."

Matt cleared his throat. "We should…"

Sophia silenced him. "Matthew has something he wants to say. He was going to tell you and Rebecca tonight, but no time like the present. Right?"

Matt closed his eyes and heaved a forlorn sigh. "I'm sorry."

Nathaniel immediately shook his head. "You've got nothing to apologize for. It was all Lucifer."

"See," said Matt glaring at his girlfriend.

Sophia gave him a withering look. "What did your uncle just say?"

Matt scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Lucifer used me. He needed an opening, but that…"

"But nothing," interrupted Sophia harshly. "You apologize. You need to make thing right between you and Rebecca. She's my best friend. Part of that means getting along with Nate."

Matt almost rolled his eyes but resisted the temptation. "Fine. I'm sorry for being a jerk."

Nathaniel hid his smirk behind a cough. "Whatever, dude; it's all in the past."

Sophia narrowed her eyes. "Boys."

Matt stuck out his tongue for a moment. "I'm still beating you to the warding stones."

Sophia grinned and looked up at Nathaniel. "We'll see you back up at the house."

Nathaniel watched as the two sprinted along the path and around a curve, disappearing behind the thick underbrush. He turned back in the direction of the houses and started trudging his way back up the path. He really felt no animosity toward Matt. He understood where the teen was coming from, and Matt had never been rude toward him. They just avoided each other; an easy enough task considering the chaos the Compound had been in since the attack.

With the loss of the Watson Estate, the Compound had become the de facto headquarters for what was left of the organization Mr. Watson had founded with help from Chris and a few others. The problem was without Mr. Watson the organization was essentially leaderless. Chris was a wanted man, and William did not have the name recognition.

He reached the house to find Anakin, Chris, William, and Serena all gathered on the porch talking in harsh whispers. None of the adults appeared to have noticed his arrival. The argument was heated if the colors of Serena and Anakin's faces were anything to go by. The two were best friends and clearly knew how to provoke the other like siblings. He certainly always knew exactly what to say to rile up Natalie. Chris appeared to be refereeing, and William stood slightly away from the rest with a resigned look on his face.

"You just said the loss of the files would be devastating," hissed Serena.

Anakin glared. "Your capture will be even more so. Chris is one of the best fighters we have."

"Then William and I go."

Chris's eyebrows rose up drastically. "No way you're stepping foot outside the wards without me."

William cleared his throat. "The summons can't be ignored."

"What are a bunch of politicians going to do? Mortals can't get within ten feet of the wards without collapsing in terror or dropping dead," scoffed Anakin.

Chris stared at his baby brother. "We want to win over the public. Killing them isn't good for our PR."

Anakin nodded. "I agree, but having them come in here and shooting up the place like Waco won't help us either. People may have frowned on the government's actions there, but they still think cults are crazy. Look, obviously, this summons is a ploy by Lucifer. He's made deals with politicians for years. He's got plenty of favors to call in even if he doesn't already have some of his own people in the government already. The attack cost him. He won't risk another confrontation like that so soon, but out there he's running the show. If you decide to go to Washington, I can't extend any sort of protection. I can't go with. You'll be on your own."

Chris glanced at Serena who nodded. "Do we have a choice? We have a chance of recovering the files on dozens of operatives. We can save all those lives, and we can spread the message that magic isn't something to be feared. Defeating Lucifer won't mean shit if we're still being hunted at the end of the day. We need the public back on our side."

Anakin sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. His eyes were the most human Nathaniel had ever seen them, and he found the sight far more terrifying than when those eyes shone with unearthly power. The realization that Anakin for all of his godlike powers could be just as human as the rest of them hit him hard.

"We have an ex-NSA analyst passing through town next week. Give me until then. He might be able to come up with something to help with the recovery of the files," said Anakin, defeated.

Serena stepped forward and placed a slender hand on Anakin's shoulder. "This is the right decision."

Anakin nodded. "Not for you personally. It's a suicide mission. We might be doing the best for the Greater Good, but the Greater Good screws this family over."

William coughed. "Afternoon, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel jumped and smiled guiltily. "Um, hi."

Chris smiled. "Most of the teens besides my son and Sophia are in the game room."

Nathaniel nodded. "Right, I'll—I'll just…"

Anakin folded his arms. "Whatever you heard cannot be made public knowledge. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Anakin bowed his head. "Wyatt is going to flip his shit."

Chris chuckled darkly. "I wouldn't want to be you."

Nathaniel did not hear Anakin's reply. The front door snapped shut behind him. He breathed out heavily and shivered. Things were not good if Chris was willing to put his wife in danger. He shook his head. It was not any of his business. He had enough to worry about.

* * *

Chris, Serena, and William departed for Washington D. C. the following week in secret. Since Lucifer's return, magical transportation was heavily monitored, so they traveled with the help of a friendly demon via the Underworld. Both Serena and William found the demonic realm frightening and vowed to never return despite knowing it was the only safe way to get back to the Compound at the end of the hearings.

The city somehow remained almost untouched despite numerous demonic attacks and riots. It had never been the most spectacular city in Chris's opinion, but standing on the stairs of Capitol Hill was enough to humble most if simply because of the history. Europe and Asia had far more ancient buildings, but it was in the building behind him a great deal of important and far-reaching decisions had been nailed out. He had always thought at some point in his life he would have run for a seat after his destiny with magic was accomplished. Unfortunately, the Grand Design and the Greater Good and Destiny had other plans.

"Right, I know you are both used to doing the talking, but we need to navigate these proceedings carefully. Like Anakin said for every bit of information we divulge we need three bits in return. Let me run the show," said William shivering despite the several layers of clothing.

Serena and Chris shared a look and nodded in unison. This was not their first appearance before a government oversight committee. They understood exactly how high the stakes were. For their plan to work everything had to go exactly according to plan, and that meant keeping all eyes focused on the proceedings.

William led them the rest of the way up the stairs and a dozen men and women in military fatigues and high-powered rifles strapped around their chests blocked their progress.

One of the men stepped forward and glowered at each of them in turn. "Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Halliwell? And Mr. William Beck?"

William nodded. "Correct."

The man waved his hand over his shoulder with two fingers pointed up. Eight persons spread out, four to the left and four to the right. They worked with eerie precision and ease. They were not the random basic recruits but a trained and efficient team. The leader produced a piece of paper and held it out for William to read.

"By Executive Order 3420 I am here by taking all of you into custody until such time as formal criminal charges can be brought to bear. Please, come with us. My men prefer to not kill, but we will want is necessary." The man said with just a hint of regret in his voice.

William motioned for Chris and Serena to remain silent and still as he finished reading the document. Finally, after a few tense moments, he handed the paper back to the leader and looked the man in the eyes or rather reflective sunglasses. "We are here to testify before the Congressional committee investigating the exact set of events outlined in that document."

The man shrugged. "I have my orders. If you wish to challenge them you can do so at our headquarters. Please, sir, we do not want any trouble."

William glanced over his shoulder at Chris. Chris gave him an imperceptible shrug. William focused his attention back on the leader and the other remaining agent.

"Those are not standard issue FBI uniforms. What agency are you with?"

The leader stood a bit taller. "I am not at liberty to discuss such matters with you."

"CIA or one of the enforcement squads for Magical Affairs," said Chris clearly dragging everyone's attention on to him. "So are we going to one of Langley's black prisons or the even less secret jail cells beneath the Pentagon?"

The leader patted the butt of his rifle. "Come with us willingly, or I give the order to incapacitate."

Chris glanced at the four agents nearest him. "I don't see any obvious signs of anti-magic amulets. I can't sense any basic charms on your armor. I like my chances of at least taking out most of you."

"Not before I put a bullet between the eyes of your sweetheart, asshole," growled one of the men nearer Serena.

Chris cocked an eyebrow. "What makes you think she's not wearing an amulet to protect her from bullets? We knew we were coming into a warzone. We took precautions."

A beautiful woman in her late twenties stepped seemingly out of nowhere. She had shoulder length, pitch black, curly hair. Her perfect skin was only a few shades darker than porcelain. Her cupid-bow shaped lips were pale almost blue. She had slightly too large almond shaped silver eyes with flecks of icy blue. She smiled and revealed pure white and straight human teeth. Chris immediately knew she was not human. She moved too gracefully across the icy floor. She met up with the agent that had spoken out. Before anyone could react to her presence she crushed the man's skull in with her bare fist. One solid punch was all it took for her to kill the man.

Chris stifled his gasp. She was a true vampire. The coven his mother had met who had almost turned his aunt was a bastardized offshoot. The vampire that had mothered the creature Angela had been powerful but again not a true vampire. Those had been demons. The true vampires, necromancers, were descended from a tribe of magical beings older than the pyramids. They were not overrun by their thirst. They were cold, calculating, and among the most powerful magical beings left in the world.

"Now, now, gentlemen and ladies, we are not to harm our guests. You were asked to call in back up if they proved to be less than willing to cooperate," said the woman in a soothing sensual voice.

Chris forced himself to look away when her eyes settled on him.

"Come now, Christopher, do you not like what you see? You are hurting my feelings."

Chris kept his eyes on the floor. She was dressed in a skintight black dress that left nothing to the imagination, but he had not broken his gaze because of her dress. Vampires were masters of mind magics. Even with his solid grasp on telepathy, he knew he would not have stood a chance if she had met his eyes with her own.

Serena stepped up to him and grasped his hand. They interlocked their fingers. He could feel her trembling, and he gave her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze. "Selene."

The female vampire smiled. "I'm impressed, Serena, we met only briefly, almost in passing."

"You are a vampire?"

Selene chortled merrily. "That is your term for my kind."

"But you were a member of the House of Lords!"

Selene tilted her head to one side. "You did not expect immortals to remain hidden in shadows? No, we must guide humanity where we can. For without the kine, the predator will go hungry."

"I—I don't…"

William moved in closer. "You are British. What are you doing aiding…"

Selene placed a slender finger to her lips still covered in blood and brain matter. "Hush, don't think too hard."

"You're serving Lucifer," said Chris raising his eyes but remaining careful to not meet hers.

Selene clucked her tongue. "The Son of Light and I struck a deal. For keeping my beloved Britain out of his little war, I need only aid him in capturing three violent killers."

"We're not killers. We had nothing to do with Adelrich's death."

Selene shrugged. "That is for a judge and jury to decide. Lucifer, however, needs to bring you in to carry out justice, but his hands are tied when it comes to your family. Come peacefully. You might have taken these fine witch hunters, but you are not a match for me."

"We're not going silently to our deaths," said Chris loudly.

Nine rifles immediately were leveled in their direction.

"Lucifer cannot kill any of you. He moves against you and he loses something he has worked very hard to obtain. I am under no obligation to causing any more harm than what is necessary to get you to cooperate. The only other beings he is capable of making such a bargain with and not be breaking his word have not been seen since the closing of the Garden. You are going to be captured, but unless you resist no harm can come to you."

Chris frowned. "What do you mean?"

Selene sighed. Her breasts pressed against the confines of her dress. "Lucifer cannot harm anyone Zachary considers a friend or family nor can any of his agents. There are not many beings capable of striking a bargain with Lucifer on his terms without becoming an agent of his will. Only the most ancient of vampires of which two remain, another Power, one or two of the forsaken gods or goddesses, and the two Queens of the Fairydom. The only Power that remains alive is currently at odds with his brother. The gods and goddesses who are still powerful enough to defy Lucifer no longer reside on this plain, leaving only the Fairy Queens. They are nothing more than legends at this time. They once walked among mortals, but when the Garden was sealed they vanished."

Chris ground his teeth together as he pieced together his recollections on the subject matter at hand. Fairy Queens were thought of as only existing in the literature. The Powers were all dead as after as he knew except for Uriel and Lucifer. Five elders had ruled the tribe who turned into the first necromancers. The Titans killed three of the elders; that left two alive. As for gods and goddesses, he knew very little. He knew Raphael had met with one, confirming they existed.

"He killed my grandfather."

Selene pursed her pale lips. "Was there an autopsy performed? Could the old man have died of fear or terror? Or did he die due to actions taken in self-defense on Lucifer's part? Faustian deals need to be specific and exact in nature."

Chris squeezed Serena's hand. "You are promising no harm will come to us?"

Selene smiled and wagged her finger. "I am promising to not kill you. I will also promise that I will not let you come to harm as long as you cooperate as long as it remains in my ability to do so. I cannot act against Lucifer or his agents."

Chris turned to face Serena. William bent in to listen. "I can't see a way out of this. She's not a Power, but she's at least as powerful as the Source. I might be able to take her if I had Excalibur, but there's no way I can vanquish her alone."

"Could we orb away?" asked Serena.

Chris closed his eyes and sensed his surroundings. On the edges of his peripheral magical vision swirled familiar sparks of aura. He opened his eyes and shook his head. "There're wards up preventing orbing."

"Is she telling the truth about the rest? Can Lucifer really not kill us?" asked William.

Chris shrugged. "I don't see why he couldn't. He's got Zach, and he's a powerful kid. No matter how powerful he is, though, he's not going to be a match for Lucifer."

"Do you trust her?"

Chris shook his head. "Necromancer's are cold-blooded strategic killers. They are not friends to the demons or witches, but they play the long game."

"I hate magic," said Serena. "We've got no choice. So much for getting the files back."

Chris glanced back over at Selene and the agents. "We're still the focus of today. No way Lucifer gives away the Britain and isn't paying attention to how the capture is going."

A limousine pulled up at the bottom of the stairs followed by two armor-plated Humvees. Selene waited patiently with a knowing smile as Chris turned back to face her.

"We'll go, but the peaceful part last only until the end of the day. We've got other meetings to get to."

Selene motioned with her hand for them to take the lead down the stairs. Chris let Serena take point followed by William. He kept himself between them and Selene. The agents headed down the steps, flanking them. At the cars the agents climbed into the Humvees, leaving the limousine for the rest.

The drive wherever they were going took slightly over a half hour. During the entire drive, not a single word was spoken. Serena stayed close to Chris, and William pretended to doze off. Not for the first time Chris thought that his friend had been something more than a lawyer. He handled tough situations too well to not have been at least an army reserve. William always denied anything of the sort.

The car pulled to a stop in front of a massive gothic-style stone mansion. Selene slipped out of the car and vanished inside the house without a word. The agents piled out of the following Humvees and waited patiently for the three civilians to climb out of the car.

"Head inside and to the left. Agent Wraith will meet you and direct you to your rooms," directed the leader.

Serena looked up taking in the enormous building. "What is this place?"

"One of the CIA's off the books holding facilities or possibly a commandeered safe house for international dignitaries," whispered Chris also taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the place.

William crossed his arms. "Adelrich told me about places like this. It's CIA. They used them for domestic operations that needed to remain out of the public's eye. They were set up just after Jonathan's reign specifically to function as operation centers to investigate magic."

Chris shivered. "Explains the wards."

They headed inside and followed the instructions. An agent dressed in army fatigues and a white lab coat directed them into a room on the third floor. It was a cross between an office and a miniature library. There were more books on obscure branches of magic than Chris knew existed. The government with help from Witch Hunters had clearly been far more versed in magic than they let on. It explained how when the witch hunts were declared there was no delay between the announcement and action. The government had the means to take on witches and demons long before anything had been made public. The thick oak doors opened, and Selene entered dressed in leather pants and a camouflage tank top, which was a size too small and rode up her stomach with every breath.

"I've been informed your stay here may last longer than the day. There is a plan to shut down the Foundation's operations without any sort of backlash from the public. It requires the three of you to remain out of commission. Make yourselves comfortable. You are free to roam the house and the gardens. You must simply not make contact with the outside world in any form until the weekend. At such time, I've been assured you will be free to leave and return to the Compound."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "The deal was the day."

"Agreed. I am here to inform you the deal with the agents changed." Selene took a seat on the desk.

Serena opened her mouth to speak when the sound of gunfire echoed through the house. Selene was on her feet in a flash. Her eyes sparkled like silver in the sun.

"Death," she hissed.

Chris pulled Serena and William closer and faced the door as gunfire continue to erupt somewhere in the halls. The echoes of the shots grew louder and so did the screams, blood-curdling screams. Chris shut his eyes and reached out with his sensing ability. Something wrong and sinister was inside the house, and it was powerful.

"What were you saying about there only being two beings out there capable of defying Lucifer?"

Selene bared her fangs. All her muscles were tensed like springs ready for whatever was approaching them.

"Ser, stay behind me," warned Chris.

The blonde haired woman nodded stiffly, her expression strained but controlled. William pulled out a small handheld gun.

"Where the fuck were you keeping that?"

William shrugged. "Need to know."

Selena chuckled. "I like the mortal."

"Sorry, I'm taken," quipped William.

Chris nodded to himself. His friend had definitely seen some action before. William took up a position to Chris's right but still behind him. Selena glided gracefully onto his left. A waft of her perfume hung in the air, making Chris's thoughts meander.

"Stop that," snapped Chris, shaking his head.

Selene gave him an award-winning smile. "It's part of the package. Do you like?"

Serena made her objection known, and Selene bowed her head. "Do you know what approaches?"

"If it's what I think it is, we're screwed," whispered Chris, preparing himself for the fight. "It's fast and tough. No doubt it's clever. It waited until we were all inside before striking. We've got to split its focus, and we may get lucky enough to hold it off long enough for help to arrive."

Selene frowned; the expression did not suit her. "Help? Lucifer will not send help."

"Not Lucifer. Anakin," corrected Chris. "He'll know we're in trouble, and your wards are good but not that good."

"Not my house," retorted Selene.

Serena spoke up just as another round of screams and gunfire reached them. "Anakin said he couldn't…"

Chris quickly glanced over his shoulder. "My brother doesn't always tell the truth. He also knew Lucifer was listening in to our conversation."

"How?" inquired William steadily.

"An alteration in the wards. Suyana and he discovered it after the attack. They were waiting for a chance to use it. We were the perfect distraction."

Serena growled. "I'm going to kill him."

Chris shrugged. "Let's see if we survive this first."

A shotgun boomed, much closer to them than the earlier gunfire had been. It was immediately followed by the sounds of something heavy being slammed several times into the walls and floor. There was a moment of silence, and then there was a psychic scream that sent both Chris and Selene stumbling back. The sense of wrongness nearly overwhelmed him.

He clenched his teeth. "Here, it comes!"

No sooner had he finished speaking, than the thing was through the office door. It moved quickly, almost too quickly to follow, and some sort of charm shrouded it. Chris could see ripples in the air outlining its form but not enough to distinguish a solid identity or even a guess of its species. It was just a flickering blur in the air.

He did not have the defensive shield like Wyatt, and he lacked the finesse to use projection on a whim. What he did excel at though was telekinesis; no one in his family came close to being his equal. He poured out his power to form a solid invisible force enclosing the distance from the doorway to the small group. The creature smashed into the barrier with all of its considerable strength and speed. The impromptu shield held, barely. The kinetic and magical force surged through the shield and drove Chris back across the carpeted floor into William and Serena.

As it hit, the energies of Chris's telekinetic shield and the shadowing charm over the creature reacted violently canceling each other out. For a brief second the creature was visible. It was all muscle and gray skin similar to a stone gargoyle. It was vaguely humanoid and covered in ritual scarring. Two horns rose out of its shoulders and another two from the top of its head. Its forelimbs were too lengthy for its body and tipped in long and deadly claws. Its yellow catlike eyes shone with hatred before turning all white like a dead corpse's eyes. It was exactly what Chris feared, a Devil Lord, most likely the same one that had killed Adelrich Watson and wiped out an entire mid-sized American town.

As Chris's shield buckled and fell, Selene pointed a finger at the Devil Lord and hissed a word in a foreign tongue, unlike any Chris had heard before. A blindingly bright beam of light no thicker than a strand of hair flashed out from the end of her extended finger. The beam swept past the creature, striking it in the upper arm, and where it touched fur burned and flesh boiled, bubbled, and blackened.

The Devil Lord flashed to one side of the doorway and vanished, leaving nothing behind but a wisp of curling gray and white smoke in the air. Following the trajectory of Selene's attack, Chris could see a smoking hole in the fancy marble paneling of the hallway beyond. He pointed his hand in the direction of the doorway, and William did the same with his gun. Everything was silent. Everyone held their breath.

"Where is it?" hissed Selene.

Serena whispered hopefully. "Maybe you scared it off. It couldn't have expected you to be able to hurt it."

"No, it was expecting us. It won't be scared off by a paper cut," said Chris. "It's smart, remember, and old—very old. Creatures like that don't get old by being brash and brazen. It'll find a weakness and exploit it. Attack from behind or from above."

Everyone glanced around the room, trying to find where it could be lurking.

"Is it what you thought?" asked Selene softly out of the corner of her mouth.

"It looked like a bigger, meaner version of those things that attacked the Compound with Lucifer," said William, covering the doorway with his gun still.

Chris nodded stiffly. The sense of wrongness had not diminished. It was still somewhere nearby. "It's a Devil Lord. The things that attacked us were Devils. Think of them as the difference between a low-level demon and a member of the Source's inner circle. They're the things that rule one of the most hellish of dimensions."

"Powers?"

Chris gulped. "Whatever it needs. It's a creature of pure energy."

"Interesting," mused Selene.

Intense and oppressive silence descended upon the group. Nothing moved or made a sound except for the central air unit for the mansion. It creaked and groaned as the metal vents contracted and expanded with the change in temperature. A particular loud thump caught Chris's attention.

"Can you summon electricity?" he asked, directing the question at Selene.

"For you, anything," flirted Selene.

Chris rolled his eyes and pointed at the air vent. She gestured and murmured in the weird language of her previous spell. Blue-white lightning suddenly filled the air with flickering fire, while a spear of heat and electricity crackled forth from the center of her palm where a miniature orb of intense light floated. The spear twisted and forked before splashing against the metal grate covering the air vent. Selene let the attack continue for a moment before crushing the ball in a delicate fist. The room felt oddly darker.

A weird chirping scream echoed out of the ventilation system before the melted metal vent covering flew off the wall, nearly striking Chris in the head. He batted the blob of metal aside with a flick of his finger. Something long and muscular like a snake followed the covering. Even as it arced down toward them its shape contorted and compressed into something stockier and viciously powerful. It almost hit Serena, but William dove in front of her. Both slammed against the floor, and William's gun went off.

Chris reacted, readying to throw the thing off William with his telekinesis, but Selene was faster. She conjured a small ancient-looking machine gun. It reminded Chris of old gangster movies. She slammed the barrel into the flank of the badger-shaped creature and pulled the trigger. Explosions rang out in quick succession. The Devil Lord went bouncing across the room; Selene followed its progress putting in another half dozen shell into its stomach and side. It dug its claws into the ground arresting its momentum. Selene brought the gun to bear, but it transformed into something with leathery wing and threw itself out of the window behind the destroyed desk.

Selene stared at the window for a second, her eyes wide, then breathed, " Alllaenat!"

Chris ignored her and turned his attention to William after checking to see Serena was uninjured. William tried to wave him off, but the movement caused him to grimace and clutch his stomach. His shirt and suit jacket were in ruins and slowly being soaked in blood. There were eight parallel lines sliced neatly across the flesh of his abdomen. Shrugging off his out jacket, Chris balled it up and pressed it against the wounds

"Ser, you need to hold this here. We need to control the bleeding."

Serena dropped to her knees beside him and took over. William hissed and bore his teeth against the pain. Chris stood back up.

"Can't you heal?"

Chris glared at Selene. "Yes, but the wounds are cursed. It'll take more concentration than normal. First, we make sure its not coming back."

Selene glanced back up to the window and back down to William and Serena. "I've never seen anything that fast. I could barely keep it in my sights."

Chris hesitantly approached the window. He peered out of it, hoping to catch a glimpse of a retreating shadow, but instead found himself falling backward to avoid being incinerated by a massive fire ball. The fire ball exploded where his head had been and the resulting wave of heat and energy hammered him back across the floor, scorching off eyebrows and eyelashes.

An otherworldly shriek sounded across the grounds, full of spite and mocking. A window below them shattered, and men screamed in fear and battle. It was back in the house. They needed to run, or at least, keep it distracted. Chris scrambled back onto his feet.

"We need to keep it away from them."

Selene studied Chris's determined expression. "Leave them defenseless?"

Chris shook his head, torn. He knew remaining in the room would inevitably draw the Devil Lord back into the room. It could easily kill William or Serena in a second bout. He hated the idea of leaving them alone, though. If it stumbled upon them, they would be less than helpless. Neither Selene nor he could stand against it alone for long.

Before he could form a plan, the floor beneath him exploded. He felt a steel cable wrap around his left ankle and drag him down. A hideous stench of rotting flesh filled his nose as he fell. He crashed onto something, and for a moment, the fall was over. The thing beneath him gave way, and the fall continued, adding more debris. The world was filled with dust, cement, sparking cables, and deafening noise. Abruptly the fall ended. Chris felt disoriented, unable to tell up from down. About a hundred objects slammed into him pounding the wind out of his burning lungs.

The crashing slowed, but he lay still, stunned. Despite protesting lungs, he could not remember how to breathe. Slowly reality sunk in. He had fallen at least two floors. The Devil Lord must have pulled him through the first, and the second had given away under the added weight of the debris of the first. It could have been worse. Then something beneath him moved.

The rubble shifted, and a low growl reverberated through it and his aching chest. In a panic, Chris tried to climb, to flee, but before he managed to get his feet to obey, a too long muscular arm burst through the debris next to his head. Long, clawed fingers closed with terrible strength on his throat and squeezed, shutting off his access to life-sustaining oxygen.

The horrible, crushing pain in his neck, was followed by an almost instant surge of terrible pressure in his head. The pain surged and ebbed in time with his racing heartbeat. It felt like his head was about to explode. His lungs screamed for air, and his eyes bulged. He kicked and clawed at the fingers. He could not break the grip on his neck.

The pile of rubble beneath him shifted and surged, and the Devil Lord sat up out of the wreckage. As it stood, the rest of the piece of cement and broken tiles sloughed off it. There was not a scratch on it. As it began to lumber down the hallway, Chris managed to halfway support his body's weight, keeping his neck from snapping under the awkward strain.

From down a long muffled corridor, Chris heard heavy boots land heavily on the hardwood, crunching small pieces of rubble. The Devil Lord chuckled in a deep growling voice and chucked him to one side. He slammed against a wall, and starbursts filled his tunneling vision. He felt like a ragdoll as the pain flooded his perceptions.

He lifted dazed eyes to see the leader of the agents from his arrest come around the corner. The man held a machine gun to his shoulder, his cheek resting against the stock so that the barrel pointed wherever his eyes were focused. When he saw the Devil Lord in all its sickening and nightmare-inspiring glory, he froze in his tracks. The indecision lasted for only a split second before he opened fire.

Bullets zipped down the hall, so close that Chris could have reached out a hand and touched them. The Devil Lord flung itself to one side, a grey-skinned blur, and rebounded off the wall toward the gunman, its form changing. Then it leaped into the air, flipping its body as it did, and suddenly a spider made out of carved rocks the size of an overfed rhinoceros was racing along the ceiling toward the lead agent.

The agent turned and ran, sprinting around a corner with the Devil Lord only feet away.

"Now!" someone called, as the Devil Lord reached the intersection of the two hallways, and a sudden howl of thunder filled the hallways with noise and light. Bullets ripped into the floor, the wall, and the ceiling, coming from some point out of sight around the corner, filling the air with splinters of shattered hardwood. The Devil Lord let out a deafening caterwaul of pain and boundless fury. The gunfire reached a thunderous, frantic crescendo. Then men began to scream.

Chris tried to push himself to his feet, but the world twisted and spun beneath him. He lost his balance and fell down again. He kept trying eventually using the wall to get onto his wobbling knees.

He heard a soft sound behind him and turned his head too quickly. The world took a particularly vicious spin, and his fell and threw up. From his position on the floor, he saw the lithe form of Selene rising from a crouch. She looked cold and feral. She had added to her repertoire of weapons. She brandished a single simple broad sword in one hand while aiming the machine gun in the other.

Two other figures dropped down beside her. They were just as beautiful at Selene but less human. Their polished silver coin eyes would never pass as normal. Their skin was even paler than Selene's almost ephemeral. They both carried automatic weapons along with modest-sized bronze daggers. Their hair was as light as Selene's was dark, but there was no mistaking the family resemblance. They were also necromancers.

Without a visible signal, they all started prowling forward at the same time. The movement was atavistic and primeval, almost feline. It carried them forward in total silence. Selene paused when she reached Chris and glanced over his injuries with hard silver eyes.

"Stay down."

Chris did not bother answering.

The screaming stopped with a last stuttering burst of gunfire. The lead agent came staggering around the corner. Blood matted his hair and covered half of his face. There was a long tear through his jacket on the left side. He left arm hung uselessly, but he still gripped the handle of his miniature assault weapon with his right. He wavered and dropped to one knee as he spotted the three necromancers.

Selene gestured with a hand, and the other two spread out and moved forward while she came to the side of the wounded man. "What happened?"

"We hit it," he said, his voice slurred," We hit it with everything. Didn't even slow it down. They're dead. They're all dead."

"You're bleeding," said Selene in a calm tone. "Get behind me. Defend the prisoner."

He nodded unsteadily. "Yeah. Okay."

Chris studied the man as he approached. Somewhere in his concussed brain alarm bells went off. No mortal could have survived an encounter with the Devil Lord. Bullets were nothing more than bee stings to it. The wounds were perfect, too perfect.

"Selene!" Chris choked out.

The lead agent turned in a blur of motion, sweeping the machine gun at Selene's head like a club, but she had begun moving the instant she had heard my warning. The Devil Lord missed knocking her head off her shoulders by a fraction of an inch. She flung herself to one side and rolled as the Devil Lord's other arm flashed out, lengthening and sprouting claws as it came. She avoided the worst of it, but the cursed claws left a triple line of incisions down one shapely thigh. The wounds welled with thin and pale blood.

The Devil Lord followed her motion, surging forward, its body broadening and thickening into the form of something with over-sized jaws and vicious fangs. It overbore her by sheer mass, slapping and raking with its clawed paws, snapping with its steely jaws.

Chris heard a bone break, heard Selene cry out in rage, and the Devil Lord flew straight up into the ceiling. Its horned head and shoulders slammed into the roof with enough force to throw it clean through. A dull thump announced it landing on the floor above. Selene had rolled to her back and had launched the thing away from her with her legs.

She moved onto one side holding an arm tucked in close to her other side. Her skin turned marble white, and her eyes shone with sparks of eerie blue. She stared at the ceiling for a few second, slowly lifting and straightening her arm as she did. Chris watched in fascination as the clearly broken arm knitted itself back together. The claw marks too slowly vanished, leaving the skin as flawless and desirable as before.

She turned, and her empty silvery eyes met Chris's. He felt his mind go blank and heat up with an unquenchable desire to please her. She broke eye contact, and his sluggish brain slowly reverted to being his own.

Selene picked up her fallen weapons, determined they were useless and chucked them aside. She chose to pick up a blood-covered machine gun and checked to ensure it was useable. She was breathing quickly. She licked her lips slowly and said evidently for my benefit, "I sometimes see the Count's point. It is exhilarating to face capable opponents."

There was a feminine scream from somewhere close by a challenge that was answered by a leonine roar that shook the hallway. One of the other necromancers flew into the wall at the intersection ahead and collapsed in a broken pile. The angle at which her back was bent indicated it was broken. No one was that flexible. There was sound of swift motion from around the corner, and a gasp followed by heavy silence.

A moment later, a blur came around the corner, dragging third necromancer's limp form by the hair. The Devil Lord, once more showing its bestial, not-quite-human form, stopped ten feet away. It calmly lifted the unconscious necromancer to its mouth. Its mouth opened wider than it physically should have been capable of opening and bit off her head. The headless body twitched and spasmed for a few moments before white and gold flames engulfed it, turning it to ash.

Selene narrowed her eyes, and her rich mouth split into a wide hungry smile. "Did you need a break before we continue?"

The Devil Lord spoke, its voice weirdly modulated. Its voice was not a physical sound, but rather it came from within each person's own mind. Chris was forcibly reminded of Voldemort's taunts in the last Harry Potter book. "Break?"

"I'm going to kill you," said Selene calmly.

The Devil Lord laughed. It was hideous sound like nails across a chalkboard. It cut straight through Chris's souls. "Little hemophage…"

Chris managed to push himself back onto his feet. He leaned heavily against the wall, but he was standing. Selene never looked back at him, but Chris could sense her attention nonetheless. He knew they had only moments before the Devil Lord attacked again. The creature did not seem to be a talker. He did not bother trying to communicate the plan to her. He raised his fist to chest height and punched out with everything he had, screaming. A freight train's worth of telekinetic energy struck out at the Devil Lord. The elder necromancer bounded forward at the same time, firing her machine gun.

The Devil Lord lifted its hand, fingers crooked into a familiar defensive gesture, and the wave of force that should have knocked it flat on its back changed direction. It struck Selene full on instead. Ordinarily she might have been able to shake off the attack, but in midair she was defenseless. She was knocked flying and flattened against the mound of rubble. A bar of rebar stuck out from her stomach.

The Devil Lord's mouth split into a leering smile of its own, and its creepy voice purred, "Break, little hemophage, break."

Chris sunk down. The world was spinning again. The Devil Lord took a step forward and half of its right arm vanished. It screamed in fury and pain. It looked wildly around for its attacker. Chris also searched for whomever else was in the room.

"Nasty and tricky," roared the Devil Lord.

It tried again to approach Chris. Energy flared around the witch, drawing in the surrounding colors of the world. The Devil Lord's skin boiled and misted away, leaving behind the putrid smell of rotting flesh and sulfur.

"SHOW YOURSELF!"

The spot beside Chris invert and the colors reversed for a split second. On the other side, blue and white orbs descended from the ceiling. Uriel holding his fiery sword aloft and dressed in a thick black Jedi-esque robes appeared on his one side. Anakin, eyes blazing with a multitude of colors materialized on the other.

The Devil Lord back peddled, tripping over itself and falling to the ground.

"The Avenger and the Twice Born!"

Anakin bent down and looked at Chris. "How's the head?" His eyes slowly returned to their usual sparkling blue.

Chris coughed and allowed his brother to pull him to his feet. "It's been better. Where are Serena and William?"

Anakin squeezed Chris's shoulder. "Ser's fine, but... but it was too late for William."

Chris's breath caught in his throat, and his stomach plummeted. "No," he moaned. His eye stung and burned with bubbling tears.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I tried to get here sooner, but that thing has a way with wards. I'm so sorry."

"What will I tell Jamal? Danny?" he choked out in a whisper.

Anakin turned back to face the Devil Lord. It had returned to its feet and was gathering some sort of shadowy attack. "You tell them he died a hero. You tell them the thing that killed him is vanquished."

The Devil Lord threw the shadowy ball at them. Uriel raised his free hand and unleashed a blinding flash of light. Chris shielded his eyes with his arm and when he lowered it the Devil Lord was covered in a black and white flame. It was screaming but still standing.

"This one's almost a King," said Uriel dispassionately. "It is impressive you survived as long as you did, Christopher. I have known many a hero to have succumbed to creatures far less powerful than this specimen."

"That's thanks to Selene."

Uriel held out his sword to Anakin. "Strike it down."

Anakin took the sword and lowered it.

"I want to do it," announced Chris, pushing himself back onto his feet.

Anakin nodded and handed him the sword. Uriel looked ready to protest, but Anakin shut him down with a glower. Chris strode over the creature; it had dropped to its knees. He bared his teeth. Yelling, he raised the sword high above his head and sliced down. The blade cut through skin, sinew, flesh, and bone with ease. The Devil Lord's body split into to uneven pieces and dark vortexes opened up to devourer both pieces. Chris dropped the sword, dazed.

"I want to see Ser," muttered Chris as he crumpled, drifting into unconsciousness.

Anakin caught his brother before the man fell to the floor. He lowered the Chris down gently and collected the sword. Without looking away, he handed the sword to Uriel.

"That was stupid, Anakin. No mortal can wield this sword."

Anakin ran his softly glowing hands over Chris. "Whatever. What do we do with her?"

Uriel sighed. "She is not our concern, and she fought against the creature."

Satisfied his brother was not in immediate danger, he stood up and faced Uriel. "So it wasn't the necromancer's summoning the Devils again."

"The Count is still too weak to perform the rites. Selene prefers the use of mortals. No, one of Lucifer's bastards has found the necessary spells to open portals."

Anakin frowned. "Devils are one thing. That thing took a full blast from you, head on, and survived."

Uriel bowed his head. "Pray, they are not foolish enough to release a King. Get your family and friends home. We…"

Someone clapped slowly. "Most impressive, really."

Uriel stiffened. His hand rested again on the pommel of his sword.

Lucifer stepped out of the shadows, grinning. "Now, brother, do you really think you stand a chance against me? I do thank you. This attack on my safe house means I can do this."

He raised both hands and barked out a curse. Wind and light filled the room. When it died down Lucifer remained along with the unconscious Chris and the injured Selene. Anakin and Uriel were nowhere in sight. Lucifer bent down and placed a scarab beetle pendent in the center of Chris's chest. Thick cloth bandages encased Chris's body. With a dismissive wave, Lucifer banished Chris's body. He stalked over to Selene and unceremoniously removed the metal bar.

"Do not defy me again. I do not give third chances," he whispered. He left the barely conscious necromancer to writhe in agony.

He found Serena in the ruined office along with William's dead body. A simple sleeping spell rendered the distraught woman unconscious. He collected her in his arms and walked out of the mansion. Every footprint turned into blue and white flames. Within a few hours nothing was left of the mansion but ash and distorted metal.

* * *

AN: How was it? I hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry about the little cliffhanger at the end. I'm working to get the next chapter out soon. In the meantime, tell me what you thought and your complaints or fears. I look forward to hearing from all of you.

In case this is the last we see of each other before the New Year, HAPPY CHRISTMAS or HAPPY HOLIDAYS or HAPPY SOLSTICE or whatever ;). Here's to a productive and joyful 2016.


	7. Monster That Lives In Her Dreams

AN: A very Happy New Year to everyone! Here is the next chapter of the Charmed tale as envisioned by me. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

MONSTER THAT LIVES IN HER DREAMS

Zach lay in his bed staring up at a projection of the city he called home. He had figured out how to replicate the spell on the fake window in his bedroom. The scene was a live view of the city complete with smoldering buildings and ruined streets. The government had re-established order and was in the process of rebuilding the destruction from the Second American Civil War. In the months that passed since the declaration of the dismantling of the Foundation and the capture of the rebels responsible for the death of one of America's great heroes, not a single thing had been fixed in the city. San Francisco was going to be left as a physical reminder of what it cost to fight for freedom and justice.

Zach waved his hand angrily, and the projection flickered out like one of the first color televisions. The war was being blamed on a group of witches who conspired with demons and other magical beings to try and topple the government and wipe out humanity. The head of the rebellion had been traced back to the some of the top leaders in the non-profit organization known simply as the Foundation, his uncle's business. The government used the facts and evidence fed to it by Lucifer to impose rules and regulations on magic akin to the laws originally used to detain terrorists. Not all magic was hated and despised, Lucifer and his allies were extolled as the great saviors of humanity.

It made Zach sick to think how utterly Lucifer had won the war. There was nothing left of the resistance in any major city in the Western Hemisphere. Europe, especially Britain, Germany, and Russia were still giving him a hard time. Africa was in a state of chaos, and Lucifer appeared happy to leave it so. Asia was not directly under his control, but he had both China and Japan on his payroll through back channels. None of the other countries dared stand against him for fear of being overrun by one of the dominant powers in the region. There was no hope left in the world.

He never thought it would come down to this. He had always thought good and light would find a way to turn things around. He thought his family would find a way to save the day like they always did. They had defeated Lucifer once before. It could not be that difficult to do so again. They had Anakin back.

He sighed and rolled over. His fingers brushed against warm flesh. A small smile pulled on the corners of his lips. The world might be turning to shit, but he still had a few good things left. One of those things was asleep next to him, dreaming peacefully and blissfully unaware of his turmoil. He kissed Eve's bare shoulder and snuggled up against her. He breathed in her scent and willed his brain to shut down to little effect. It had been weeks since he had slept through the night. He had trouble sleeping ever since the capture of his uncle and aunt was announced.

Eve shifted in her sleep and pushed herself against him. He let his hand drift down to her navel. He saw the corner of her mouth curl upward despite her breathing remaining steady and rhythmical. She shivered slightly at his touch. He kissed the back of her neck and closed his eyes.

He needed to sleep. The rumor around the massive underground fortress was Lucifer would be returning to the city in the morning. The Evil Power That Be had been traveling for the past week ostensibly to determine who had Christopher, Serena, and William in custody. Zach was not fooled by the act, but he played along in order to gain some information about his family. There was no way Isis or Anubis did not know exactly where they were being held. They practically ran the mortal government. He steadied his breathing and focused on clearing his mind. It was the trick he had learned over his time with Lucifer and the Ennead. If he cleared his mind he could more readily access the part of himself bound to his magic.

Magic induced sleep was not as restful as ordinary sleep, but it was better than nothing. Lucifer would expect him to be a part of whatever public functions he had planned, and there would be multiple public events. For all of his high and mighty act, Lucifer was in love with being the center of attention. He liked to show off and make others jealous. So far Zach had managed to keep himself out of the mortal news. He was running out of excuses to not be standing at Lucifer's side when addresses the media. Sighing heavily, he opened his eyes. There was too much going for him to meditate it all away.

"Perhaps, you should use the time wisely," said a voice from across the room.

Zach carefully rolled over to face the owner of the voice. Seated in the chair by Zach's desk was Peter Thomas. He did not look vastly different from the last time Zach had seen the teen at school on the day of his arrest. He wore the jersey of swim captain and a pair of faded blue jeans. Perhaps he was a hair thinner than what Zach remembered, but his hair was styled in the same manner even down to the few stray pieces.

"Maybe you should shut it," whispered Zach.

Peter shrugged. "Suit yourself, but you're wasting valuable time just lying there. Think of all those books you still need to study. And weren't you saying the other day you need to brush up on your potion skills? Hours and hours of restless tossing and turning could be put to good use."

Zach glared at Peter. "What do you know? You're a ghost or…"

The truth was Peter could not be a ghost. The wards encompassing the bedroom protected against unwanted spirits. The wards were perfect. They did not let anything or anyone through Zach did not want. There was the manifestation in the mirror in the bathroom, but that was built on a charm placed in the room before Zach took possession of it. Peter was a new addition.

"Could be your mind has finally cracked under the pressures of sleep deprivation and guilt."

Zach shook his head. "I'm not crazy."

"No crazy person thinks they're crazy. That would be crazy," mocked Peter.

"Just shut it," snapped Zach a little bit louder.

Peter shook his head. "No. You got me killed. I think I'll keep you company."

Zach paled. "I didn't get you killed."

"I wouldn't have been used by Rahab and Tiamat if it were not for you. I wouldn't have been in that room that night. I wouldn't have had to sacrifice myself. My death is wholly your fault," continued Peter

"That's not true," whimpered Zach.

Peter crossed his legs. "Which part? Everything I said is true, and you know it. You can try and deny it all you want, Halliwell, but you know I'm right. I'd still be alive if you weren't. Michael would still be alive. How many others have died in the past few months because of you? Because you struck a deal with the devil? How many more bad choices do you have to make? When will it be enough for you to understand the truth?"

Zach shook his head. "No…No."

Peter stood up. "How long until you get Eve killed? Or will you kill her with your own hands like Michael? What about Rebecca? Matt? Your mother? Father?"

Zach squeezed his eyes shut. "Please, stop."

Peter whispered in his ear, "It's all your fault," and vanished.

Zach sobbed uncontrollably. It was all his worst fears. He was going to lose everyone he loved or cared about. He could be the one to kill some of them. He felt the darkness growing in him. The temptation to use magic for personal gain grew daily. It was what he had drilled into his head every day. Magic was a tool. There was no good or evil, only power. With power, he could put an end to his fears, but there was a cost. There was always a cost. He knew nothing came for free.

"Zach?" asked Eve groggily.

He hastily rubbed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. "Go back to sleep, babe."

Eve wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself closer. "What is it?"

"Nothing—nothing," Zach lied.

Eve kissed his back. "You can trust me."

Zach did not answer and remained still. Eventually, Eve slipped back off to sleep. Zach stared at the empty seat, wondering. He needed to find a way out of the fortress before he went insane.

* * *

Chris woke with a start to find himself strapped to a metal high-backed chair. The shackles around his wrists, ankles, and neck were spiked. Even the slightest movement caused the metal to dig and cut. The room was lit by a single flickering fluorescent bulb and was slightly too cold. A stainless steel table sat in front of him with a small camera placed on it. A red light blinked at him.

"Good you are awake," said a male from behind him.

Chris resisted the urge to turn and see his captor. Instead, he glared at the camera and sent it flying across the room. It smashed into the cement wall and fell to the floor with a satisfying crash of metal, plastic, and glass.

"I would not bother trying to unlock your cuffs with magic. They were forged by some of the most experienced dwarves ironsmiths this side of the Fall."

Chris swallowed.

"Not much of a speaker? That is of little matter. Everyone talks, eventually. We all have our breaking point. Humans are particularly weak when it comes to these things."

Anubis stepped into Chris's view. He was not in his human disguise, but displaying his true form in all of its glory. He had the head and face of a jackal with thick black fur and beady eyes. He stood slightly taller than the black diamond quarterstaff he leaned on heavily. He was still dressed in a business suit.

"Your capture and the story of the destruction you wrought on a government safe house have been broadcast across the country. Any support your Foundation had remaining has dried up. Congress has given Lucifer the rights to do with you as he sees fit."

Chris stared at Anubis without emotion. He wanted to know what happened at the house. He was worried about Serena and Anakin. Giving any of that to Anubis, he knew, would only further weaken his standings.

Anubis tapped is staff once and the diamond flowed down and around his feet slowly forming into a simple stool. The faux-Egyptian god sat down with predatory grace. He placed his folded hands on the metal table. "My Father would like to understand to a greater extent what Anakin and his bastard brother have planned. He is willing to grant you anything you desire for the information."

"Go to Hell," croaked Chris. His throat felt like he ate the greater part of the Sahara.

"We already rule it. It's not all it is cracked up to be," said Anubis conversationally. "Some of my brethren fell more at home among the dark and scary things of the world. I prefer to remain where the action is. Demons are too easy to manipulate and control. Humans are fickle and vile creatures but ever so entertaining to deal with. Witches, in particular, have a unique view of the world."

Chris balled his hands into fists. The resulting motion caused deep cuts to appear around his wrists. His blood began to trickle down.

Anubis smirked. "You really should not make any action that can be construed as aggressive. The chains are enchanted to inflict the most exquisite types of pain when triggered."

Chris gritted his teeth.

"My brother will return soon. He was just checking in on your beautiful wife. He can be rather brutish when it comes to the fairer sex, but I assure you she will survive the encounter. Her freedom, my Father feels, will be high on your demands in exchange for the desired information."

Christ strained against his restraints. Unimaginable pain blasted through his senses blinding him to any other sensation. The white-hot pain stabbed and clawed at his very being. It was more than simple physical injury. The charm was ripping at his soul.

Anubis's voice floated down to him. "Your battle with the Devil King was a number of weeks ago, but your magical reserves are still terribly depleted. Rest is advised. I will return when Set is finished."

The pain waned slightly. Chris became aware that he was alone in the room. He tried to sense for Serena, but an electrical jolt disrupted his concentration. His restraints were very sophisticated. He still had access to his full array of powers as demonstrated by the broken camera, but it would not let him concentrate enough to use but his most base powers. Essentially he was powerless.

Rather than sit and stew in the revelation. He used the time to study what he could see of the room. It looked like any generic interrogation room. Since his uncle was a cop he had seen his fair few of these rooms. They were designed to disorientate and elicit confessions. The chairs were always hard, uncomfortable, and usually off balance. Behind him most likely was the one-way mirrored window. The temperature was always set too hot or too cold. Everything was nondescript. There was nothing revealing where he was.

The presence of one of the Ennead was foreboding, and Anubis hinted at there being a second of Lucifer's lieutenants present. Set was interrogating his wife. His mortal and powerless wife was facing one of the most ruthless being in the world alone. Chris closed his eyes to avoid the tears of frustration building. Serena was a mortal, but she was not defenseless. She had the quickest wit of anyone he knew. She had some natural resistance to mind magics, and he had taught her how to fortify her defenses further. They could be overcome, but it would take time. Time Serena could and would use to her advantage. There was a reason she was the Chair of the Board of the Foundation.

Chris blinked rapidly and focused his mind on finding a way out. Dwarven steel was practically indestructible but very specific in its strengths. Some forms were vulnerable to extreme temperature; others to specific sonic resonances, and others to simple oxidation. Imprisonment charms also had their weaknesses. Most could be overloaded with enough of a power surge. He doubted any of those options were available to him, not with his energy reserves near empty.

The door just outside his visual field creaked open.

"Christopher Halliwell, I was hoping I would meet you," said a man's voice in a very thick Manchesterian accent. Set stepped into view wearing a simple pair of black trousers and an undershirt. He genuinely smiled and set down across from Chris. The blond haired man could barely pass for twenty. Chris stared at him, tight-lipped.

Set placed a manila folder on the table. "Contained in this folder is a basic outline of the defensive and offensive measures in place in and around this building. I can tell you Lucifer left nothing to chance. You can review the details if you like, but we can save a lot of time if you simply believe me when I say there is no escaping. Accept that fact, and I will remove the shackles."

"Why?"

Set pondered the question for a moment. "I find humans are more willing to talk reasonably if they are at least somewhat comfortable. Having unrestricted access to your powers will put you slightly more at ease being in my presence. Besides, those shackles are horribly prohibitive. Your muscles are not designed to remain rigidly still for extended periods."

Chris stared down his nose at the folder, not moving a muscle besides his eyes. "I'm fine the way I am."

"Suit yourself," said Set with a shrug, and the folder vanished. "Can we, at least, talk like gentlemen? After some food and water, of course."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "I want to see my wife and William."

Set frowned. "All you had to do is ask to see Serena. We have no need to keep the two of you separate. As for the lawyer, I am sorry to be the one to inform you he did not survive his injuries."

A memory of Anakin telling him of William's death snapped back into his recollections of the attack. He kept his face passive while his heart broke again at the loss of a close friend. William was one of his oldest friends aside for Mitchel. The ache in his chest dulled enough for him to risk talking.

"My wife."

Set snapped his finger and Anubis appeared. "Christopher is requesting Serena's presence."

Anubis's lips curled up revealing canine fangs. "I'm not your errand boy."

"No, you are my errand dog. Now, fetch," said Set in a voice of absolute authority.

A powerful compulsion rippled visibly from Set's body. The ripples struck Anubis, and his terrible eyes glazed over. Chris felt the power flow through him and was glad it was not directed at him. He had been in the room many times when Wyatt or Anakin used a similar power. This display made their awesome abilities feel like a breeze compared to the destructive powers of the winds powered by a massive hurricane.

Set eyes blazed a somber purple. He stared at Chris with them, and Chris felt like he had fallen down a wormhole. He slammed down his mental defenses bring the real world back into focus, but the indiscernible pull still weighed heavily on him. It was giving him a headache for the ages. Anakin was not joking when he warned them the Ennead were unlike anything they had encountered before even Aeglaeca and Jonathan.

"Anything else you require? Are you sure you do not want refreshment perhaps? I have recently had the pleasure of being hosted by the Necromancer Clan in—well it does not matter. The point is, they introduced me to some of the finer beverages mortals have to offer. Being something of a collector, I have begun one of the most excellent wines."

Set motioned with his finger and wine glasses sprang out of the table followed by a very dusty bottle filled with a light amber tinge to the liquid inside. He poured himself a glass and silently asked Chris if he wanted one. Chris pulled a face and narrowed his eyes. Set shrugged and placed the bottle on the table, picked up his glass, and smelled the contents. He took a tentative sip and smiled.

"Devine, and I've tasted the stuff the Powers drink."

Chris strained against his restraints out of habit. The shock was mild but still excruciating. He gritted his teeth and turned his face away from Set. His interrogator paid his discomfort no mind and continued sipping on his wine. Anubis returned still stumbling slightly with Serena in tow.

Serena's eyes were red, and she had bags under them but appeared otherwise unharmed. She gave Chris a look of relief even as her lips thinned. She faced Set with arms crossed.

"You said he would be unharmed. He's bleeding."

Set smiled. "Anubis, you are no longer needed. As for the injuries to your husband, I cannot protect him from himself."

Serena still kept her arms folded, and her back straight, but Chris spotted the minor cracks in her façade. Her fingers were curled into fists to keep herself from tapping them. Her left eye twitched, and her right calf quivered.

Set conjured a comfortable chair. "Please have a seat."

Serena glanced at the chair and moved to stand beside Chris. "I'll stay with my husband."

Set rolled his eyes. "Why must you fight me at every step? It will not change the outcome. I will get what I want out of you. Chris has already felt just an inkling of what I'm capable of. Do you think you, a mortal, stand a chance? Take a seat."

Chris spoke before Serena could. "You try anything on her, and you'll be nothing but atoms before you finish blinking."

Set's eyes snapped onto Chris's hazel ones. "Oh, I do wish I could let you try. Ending your life would bring me endless pleasure. Not to mention it would leave the lovely Serena unattached."

Chris's eyes blazed and the shackles around his hands and neck shattered. Just for a half second, he caught surprise on Set's face. "Leave. Her. Alone."

"Impressive. Very impressive," said Set clapping gentlemanly. "Clearly Lucifer is wrong in his impression of your abilities. A mistake we won't make again."

"Cut the shit. You're not getting me to talk to you about our plans."

Set leaned forward. "Plans? Oh my dear, boy, I don't give a shit about your plans. Lucifer has far more direct methods of learning anything he may need to stop your brother and the meddlesome Uriel. Oh, no, you are here to provide information on the Faerie Queens. It is known you are one of the most knowledgeable individuals on magic, you cousin, Pyrrha, notwithstanding."

Chris frowned. "The Faerie Queens? Who are the Faerie Queens? Which tribe? I've met faeries, lot of them. They have lots of queens."

"True, but I'm not talking about the Little People. No, the Queens I'm referring to are the reasons mortals have the concept of Mother Earth engrained on their consciousness."

"Oh, those Queens!" Chris rubbed his wrists. "Go read Shakespeare, then, because that's all I know about them."

Set's brow furrowed. "Interesting, I cannot tell if you are lying. Your mental capacities are far too advanced for someone of your age and disposition."

"Anakin taught me a trick or two," jested Chris.

"Anakin…Anakin—he is an annoying pest but a resourceful one. Lucifer should have captured him instead of destroying him."

Chris's gripped the arms of his chair. Serena bumped into the chair also caught off guard.

Set nodded. "Yes, I did forget to mention that little fact. When Lucifer went to collect the three of you from the safe house he discovered your brother and Uriel attacking it. He had to, unfortunately, use terminal force to ensure your continued stay as his guests."

"That's not true!" said Chris hotly.

"Oh, but it is. I saw the ash piles myself," leered Set, enjoying the anguish he was causing.

Serena's voice shook when she spoke. "No. No! He—there's no…"

Chris continued. "I'd feel it if he were gone."

Set bobbed his head. "And we have several dozen wards around this establishment. At least half of them are directed at altering what you sense of the outside world. Stretch out your sense and test it."

Chris shook his head, gripping tightly onto Serena's hand. "Nothing will convince me to trust anything you say."

"Believe what you will, but I have no need to lie to you."

"You enjoy causing pain and despair, you bastard," snapped Serena.

Set bit his lower lip. "Don't you love how feisty she is?"

Chris glowered. "Go fuck yourself."

"There is no need for such language. Think of the children! No, we've digressed from the topic at hand. Titania and Mab or whatever they call themselves, what do you know of them?"

Chris squeezed Serena's hand. "Nothing. Nothing at all. They're not real. I didn't bother memorizing every fairytale ever told."

Set tapped his finger on the table. "They exist. You know they exist. Every Power That Be brought forth into this plane a manifestation of themselves that they passed onto lesser beings. Gabriel founded the Elders and whitelighters. Lucifer created demons. Raphael bestowed onto some the powers of witches. The list goes on, but the powers to note for this conversation are those of the elements. Who do you suppose initially empowered mortals with the abilities to mess with the very basis of the natural world? Perhaps, two Powers who were most closely tied to the various aspects of nature. What do you think, Christopher?"

Chris shook his head. When he spoke his voice shook. "No clue. Sounds like bedtime stories."

Set folded his hands on the table, leaning forward. "Fine, we'll return to the topic later. Exactly how did your brother cheat death? Lucifer let me review his memories of the events of that night. It is very clear the death of your brother's lover enabled him to tape into something primordial, something no mortal soul can survive touching. Yet, somehow, he wielded the Fires of Creation against a being who existed before Creation. He burnt Lucifer to a crisp, utterly destroying his former vessel. No one survives touching that much power, not even a Power."

"What do you care about that? Isn't he dead?"

"For the time being, but if he figured out a 'get out of jail free' card it would be in the best interest of me and mine to figure out how he did it," said a calming voice from the doorway.

Chris turned in his chair and immediately pulled Serena away from the door. "Lucifer."

Lucifer dressed in a simple blue business suit stepped fully into the room. Set rose from his seat and bowed. Lucifer nodded his head once in his servant's direction, and the powerful being vanished in a puff of purplish smoke. Surveying the room, Lucifer raised both hands out in front of him.

"I always found this room to be depressing. Let's try the rooftop."

An instant later Chris found himself standing on the rooftop of a ruined building. Serena was at his side, extremely pale but silent. He looked out over the city before him and recognized it as Chicago. He spotted the remnants of the world famous John Hancock Center in the distance. It made no sense for them to be held in the Mid-West. California was Lucifer's stronghold.

"Much better," said Lucifer from behind him.

Chris turned around, keeping himself between Serena and the Power. For all the terror the being before him inspired his physical presence was less than impressive. Shorter than the average man he lacked the stature to intimidate. He was certainly good looking but not in any extraordinary way. His brown almost mousy hair was gelled in a style more in fashion from a decade previous. The only truly remarkable thing about him were his eyes. They were a green, bordering on hazel, and glistened even in the fading light of the fiery sunset over the ocean. They did not remind Chris of the eyes of other Powers he had met. They were absolutely human and that made it all the scarier. This being could blend in anywhere. There was nothing to warn Chris he was facing the embodiment of evil.

Lucifer ignored Chris's silent assessment of him and walked up to the edge of the roof and looked over the city. "The witch coven of this city put up a formidable fight. Your brother, no doubt, helped inspire them. My brother loved using pawns. He wanted me distracted, and so he designed a war with Anakin as his heroic general. It is a pity the boy had to lose his life twice."

Chris stiffened. "He's not dead."

Lucifer smirked and faced him. "Denial is natural. I'm sure losing him is devastating. I once had a similar connection with my family before they turned against me. When my older sisters vanished it hurt. I cried for weeks. I felt abandoned and worthless. But those are memories of little interest to you, and my time with you is fleeting. I have a meeting with the mortal government to discuss divisions of labor in rebuilding this great state and country with the utter defeat of the evil witches and their misguided resistance."

Serena wrapped herself up in Chris's arms. "What do you want?"

"What you know of the deal Uriel struck with Anakin. Your brother had too much involvement with Powers to be stupid enough to be my brother's plaything without getting something in return. Was his pass from the afterlife a one-time thing? Is it something Uriel can perform for others?"

"Why don't you ask Uriel?"

Lucifer sighed heavily. "My brother and I are not on speaking terms. We haven't been since the little joke I played in the Garden. One harmless prank and your brothers brand you the root of all evil. Life is not fair."

Chris edged slightly away from Lucifer. "Shouldn't you know what Uriel is capable of? Aren't you his Elder?"

Lucifer lips twitched. "Not everything written in the holy texts is entirely accurate. For instance, the Father did not create the world is six days or, at least, the time period you refer to as days and what passed during the whole process are not the same. I may be called the greatest and oldest of the archangels, but my twin and I were not the first."

"Twin?" asked Serena before gasping and clapping her hands over her mouth.

"Yes, twin. Michael and I were twins. A reason, I think, for the choice of her final form. She wished to severe any ties to me. Gabriel put her up to it. He was always jealous of Michael and I. No, Michael and I were our Father's last archangels, initially. He later created Raphael as the baby of the family."

Chris frowned. "So Uriel is the oldest?"

"No, no, that right belongs to our sisters, Orifiel and Simiel. They changed their names after entering the physical world, preferring like I to limit the association to our Father. Over the ages, different religions and regions called upon them by different names. Mab and Titania were the last names I heard them call themselves, but that was eons ago."

"So they're more powerful than you?"

Lucifer shrugged. "Perhaps, power does increase with age, true, but it must also be exercised. I've had a great deal of time to increase my power and some of the greatest defenses to test it against."

Chris took another step back. "You don't sound too sure of yourself."

"You, Halliwells, have quite a lip on you. Zachary is constantly testing my patience with his sharp and irreverent tongue. I was very young when my sisters left. My memory of their gifts and powers are limited." Lucifer turned his back on Chris and clutched his hands behind himself. "Had they remained, things might have turned out differently."

Chris glanced at Serena with an arched eyebrow. Lucifer sounded almost sorrowful. The Power walked away from them, lost in thought. Chris took the advantage.

"How are you?"

Serena hugged him tightly. "Annie can't be dead. He—there's no way."

Chris held onto his shaking wife. "I know. I know."

Lucifer turned around, checking his watch. "I am late. We will continue the discussion later."

Chris blinked and found himself back in the interrogation room minus the chair he had been seated in. Thoughts rushed around his head as he continued to silently comfort Serena. Hours passed in silence and lost in thought. His body ached, and he was exhausted. Suddenly the room fell into utter darkness.

"What the hell!" exclaimed Chris as the door blew off its hinges. He shielded Serena with his body against the heat wave from the explosion.

* * *

Matt paced back and forth in front of the shut bedroom door. Just behind it was half of his family. Hours earlier every alarm went off across the Compound. Suyana hurried out of the forest moments later leading a man in smoking black robes. The man, whose face was hidden by his robes, was carrying the unconscious and bloodied body of his uncle Anakin. Almost immediately people jumped into action. Wyatt, Prue, his grandmother Piper, Paige, and all of her daughters descended on the group and carried Anakin up into his bedroom, locking the door behind them.

Matt spent the next two hours trying to get information about what was going on from any of the adults, but they either ignored him or gave him vague answers. He deduced the cloaked man was Uriel. Uriel and Anakin were gathering information or destroying information on the something to do with what Sophia's father had been involved in. Clearly that mission had not gone well, which did not bode well for his parents.

Matt stopped in front of the door and kicked it. "Just fucking tell us!"

Kenny appeared at the top of the nearby staircase, carrying a plate with a sandwich and chips on it. "The door's warded."

Matt balled his hands into fists and punched the wall. "I don't give a shit. I need to know. Where are my mom and dad? What the hell happened? Why not just tell us? What the fuck is the point of secrecy?"

Kenny chewed on his lip. "No idea, china."

Despite his emotional turmoil Matt frowned. "China?"

"Dude," clarified Kenny.

Matt blinked slowly. "Oh."

Kenny placed his plate of food down on an empty table in the hallway. "Why don't you go get something to eat? I'm sure as soon as they know anything they'll come tell us."

"You clearly didn't grow up in a family like mine. They're masters of keeping secrets. Hell, if they could've they probably would've kept that I was a witch from me," said Matt angrily.

Kenny licked his lips. "I've grown up with my fair share of secrets being kept from me. I still don't know everything. Maybe my folks don't know, but I think they know more than they tell me. My birth dad must have told them more. Still, I don't go around punching and kicking warded doors."

Matt glared at his friend. "Really?"

"Matt, I know you're worried about your mom and dad, but taking it out on the house isn't helping anything. Everyone is on edge as it is without…" He trailed off.

"I can't lose them, Kenny. I don't know what I'd do without them. I mean, they're my parents. They've always been there. And you saw Anakin; you've heard what he's done. What the—what could have done that to him and a freaking Power That Be?" Matt dragged his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know, but it'll all work out."

Matt slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "But it doesn't always work out. Zach's still captured by Lucifer. Sophie's dad is dead. We just held a funeral for my great-grandfather. What if this is it? What if good isn't getting out on top this time? What if Lucifer is slowly cutting down my friends and family until there is no one left? That's what he kept telling me he'd do. He would smile down at me and describe how he'd snuff out the life of everyone I cared about. Simply because he could."

Kenny started to reach out, paused, and withdrew his hand, unsure. "Lucifer won't win, and we'll get Zach back. Your mom and dad will be fine. You've just got to have faith."

Matt chuckled hollowly. "Fat help faith was for Zach and Sophie."

"I don't know. I don't know, but hurting yourself isn't going to help. Starving yourself won't bring your mom and dad back any quicker."

The bedroom door opened and Suyana slipped out, closing it behind her. She glanced down at Matt and then up at Kenny. "You should be in the kitchen eating lunch."

Kenny shrugged. "Too crowded."

Suyana bobbed her head. "It'll be a few hours before we know anything."

"Do you…" started Matt.

"I'm sorry, Matthew, but you will be told what you need to know later. I suggest you go find something productive to do until then. I'm sure your baby sister needs some attention." She said softly. "Kenneth, make sure he eats something."

Kenny nodded and followed her progressed down the hall and around the corner. He shivered. "She gives me the creeps."

Matt pulled at his hair. "Why won't they tell us anything?"

"No clue. Where's your sister?"

"In the nursery with Ivan. Uncle Henry is watching them," said Matt dully.

"Let's go see if he needs help. I'm sure he'll like a few moments to stretch his legs or something," suggested Kenny.

Matt looked up at him. "Seriously? You hate babies."

"I don't hate babies. They just freak me out. It's the way they stare at you. Creepy."

Matt slowly stood up. "Babies are cute."

Kenny shrugged and collected his plate. "Whatever you say."

The tramped over to the makeshift nursery on the other side of the house. Henry Jr. greeted them and gratefully let them take over watching the two babies for a few moments. Matt picked up his baby sister and handed her over to a reluctant Kenny.

"Come on, dude, unless you want to change little Ivan's diaper."

Kenny groaned. "Why did you pick her up? She was happy just lying there."

Matt picked up Ivan took him over to the changing table. "Because I'm sadistic."

"As—er—bas—oh, fff—fridge!"

Matt laughed. "Good catch."

Kenny rolled his eyes and sat down, lying Parker down on his lap. His plate of food was just out of reach. He blinked and the half of his sandwich floated over to his mouth. He took a bite. Parker tittered in excitement, waving her chubby arms and legs wildly in the air.

"Personal gain," admonished Matt playfully.

Kenny folded his arms across his chest. "Bite me."

Matt chucked the dirty diaper in the trash and picked up a clean Ivan, holding against his chest. "At least, Parker enjoyed the show."

Kenny finished his the floating piece of sandwich in two bites. "So what is with all the girls in your family having P names?"

Matt shrugged, tickling a squirming Ivan's tummy. The brown-haired baby boy laughed hysterically. "Tradition."

"Why not the boys?"

Again, Matt shrugged. "I guess they found it too hard with Wyatt. He was the first boy born in the family."

"Will you continue the tradition?"

Matt froze. "What?"

Kenny looked at him intently. "I mean, when—er—if you and Sophie ever have kids."

"Haven't really thought about it," lied Matt. He had thought about it. He was not sure he would ever have children. He could not imagine burdening a child with the mantle of being Charmed.

Parker blew a raspberry to get the attention of the boy holding her. The sound served to break the tension in the room. Kenny rubbed her stomach. "I guess babies aren't all bad."

Days passed before Anakin regained consciousness. Uriel left the second Anakin's eyes opened. It was two full days after he woke before Matt was able to speak to his uncle. He snuck into the room while everyone else was at breakfast.

"Hello, Matt," greeted Anakin in a soft hoarse voice.

The blond man was seated in a rocking chair with a blanket over his legs. He was staring out of the small window in the room.

"How'd you know…"

Anakin indicated Matt should close the door. "My powers are slowly coming back online. I'm surprised it took you this long to come interrogate me."

Matt blushed but did not argue the assessment of the visit. "You're not left alone often."

Anakin nodded slowly. His movements reminded Matt of a very old and fragile individual. "My mother and siblings mean well, but they can be smothering."

"Where's my dad and mom? And William?"

Anakin breathed out. "William is dead. My brother is busy conveying the information to Jamal and Danny as we speak. As for your parents, I cannot be certain. The last I saw of them—they are captured. You have not felt their deaths and neither have Prue or Wyatt. We can assume then they are alive."

"Like Zach," scoffed Matt.

Anakin tilted his head to one side. "I think not. Lucifer wouldn't want your father in the heart of operations. No, they will be kept somewhere secure, but outside San Francisco."

"Then we can go find them," said Matt firmly.

He expected Anakin to argue with him.

Anakin nodded. "Yes, we will find them and soon."

"Wait, what?"

Anakin started to laugh but it turned into a coughing fit. "Chris and Serena were privy to everything, all our plans. The longer they remain captured, the greater the risk to our security."

"And they're family!"

"That too. Always that," said Anakin tiredly. "Forgive me, Matt. I know it must sound heartless, but I've recently been reminded how easily my ties to my family can prove dangerous. The—there are forces at work…I need to think beyond our family."

Matt crossed his arms and stomped his foot. "There is nothing beyond this family."

Anakin slowly closed his eyes. "There is a great deal beyond this family. Now, I must rest."

Matt opened his mouth to argue but the door opened.

"What are you doing in here, Matt?" asked Piper.

"He was just checking in on me, Mom. And he was just leaving."

Matt left the room without meeting his grandmother's hawkish eyes. She followed him out of the room, closing the door with a sharp snap. Matt waited for her to speak to admonish him, but Piper ruffled his hair sorrowfully and continued down the passage. Sighing, Matt debated sneaking back into the room, but he knew he would be pushing his luck. He strode off in the opposite direction of his grandmother and run into the back of Nathaniel who looked worse for wear.

"Sorry, man," mumbled Matt.

Nathaniel shook his head. "No worries."

"I just—I wasn't paying attention," Matt continued his excuse without listening to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel scratched his chin and furrowed his brow. "What's up?"

Matt paused and chewed on his lower lip. "It's nothing—nothing really. I'm just—I don't know."

"Sophie still giving you problems because of…" started Nathaniel.

Matt rolled his eyes. "No, no, she's talking to Rebecca about her dad. No, no—I—um, I was just in with my uncle."

Nathaniel raised both eyebrows. "Really? How is he doing?"

Matt glanced around. The corridor was empty save for the two teens. "He's, er, different. I don't know. I mean, I grew up on stories of him, you know? It's like meeting your favorite superhero or something, and…and, I just don't know. He's not what I expected. Like, now with my dad and mom. We should be making plans to rescue them. We should have already rescued Zach, but he's plotting. It's like they're nothing more than pieces on a chessboard to him. He's supposed to be this amazing champion for our family, and he's letting Lucifer defeat us. He came here and killed my great grandfather, and we did nothing. NOTHING!"

The room shook slightly as Matt slammed his fist into the wall.

Nathaniel held up his hands. "It sucks, I know. Meeting your heroes is always a disappointment doubly so in your case. I—I know that losing family is painful, but you've got to think. Would your dad want to lose you or anyone else?"

Matt blinked back tears angrily. "I don't want to lose them. I shouldn't lose them. This family's been through enough shit. It's time the universe cut us a break."

"The universe doesn't work that way, man," said Nathaniel gently.

Matt sniffed and shook his head. "It's fucked up. It's all fucked up."

"Did Anakin really say we should just accept Chris and Serena's capture?" asked Nathaniel still keeping his distance.

Matt shook his head again. "No, he said we should find them soon, but it was the way he said it. It wasn't because he was afraid for them or because he wanted them back. No, it was a calculated move. It—god, he's scary. Nothing seems to faze him. Everything is just—I don't know, numbers and statistics."

Nathaniel nodded. "Ever think that's how he's coping with everything?"

"What?" asked Matt hotly.

Nathaniel raised his hands up in a gesture of complacency. "I'm not saying he's right. I'm just saying he's got a lot on his plate, and maybe he thinks he can't show that's he's afraid. He's essentially the only person in the world capable of bringing down Lucifer. That's a lot of pressure for anyone, and he's got to keep thinking bout the last time he faced Lucifer. He lost the love of his life. He could've lost most of his family, your family. Maybe, keeping his distance and being analytical about everything is his way of not buckling; because, he knows we can't afford for him to surrender to his fears."

Matt folded his arms and breathed out, frustrated. "You suck."

Nathaniel allowed himself a small smile. "I had to grow up very quickly."

"Yeah." Matt sighed and closed his eyes. He counted to ten and opened them again. "Do you think you could get everyone to meet me down in the clearing you use for practice?"

"Who are everyone?"

Matt licked his lips. "Kenny, Richard, Sophie, Rebecca, and Beth. Danny and Andrew will be busy."

Nathaniel nodded. "Sure...Why'd they be busy?"

"Danny's dad didn't make it," said Matt through a choked voice.

Nathaniel blinked once and his shoulders rounded slightly. "Where are you going to be?"

"I need to talk to Anakin again," said Matt stronger. "It's time we stop rolling over and playing dead."

An hour later Matt sat in front of a small fire conjured by Kenny. The elemental and best friend was sitting beside him offering silent support. It was something he really admired about his friend, the way he knew exactly what was needed of him. On his other side, puffy eyed, sat a determined looking Sophia. His girlfriend had taken the death of her father hard but would not hear about being left out of anything. Nevertheless, she did not react when he placed a comforting hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. The rest of his friends sat further away, talking and constantly glancing at him. They were waiting for him to talk.

With the moment upon him, Matt found it almost impossible to open his mouth. He cleared his throat, and silence descended on the small snow covered clearing.

"So, I sure you're all wondering why I asked you all to come out here."

Beth nodded and huddled closer to Richard. Matt noted his cousin's blush even as his eyes revealed the internal conflict. He vowed silently to talk to Richard after the meeting. His second talk with Anakin had been slightly more productive. Nathaniel's words hit home, and Matt was careful to not push his uncle too far. He realized no matter what was going on in the outside world his friends needed him, and he needed them. Together, they might make it through the war.

Matt stood up. "Ok, um, my mom and dad were captured. I want to rescue them."

"What? By yourself?" asked Rebecca.

Matt shook his head. "No, not by myself, and not without certain adults knowing about it. I'm not asking any of you to help me in the actual rescue, but I need help gathering information. Most of the Resistance's resources have to be focused at other targets. My mom and dad aren't high on their priority because certain people think they won't be killed anytime soon and they won't break under interrogation. There's stuff going on in Europe that is more pressing, but not to me. I can't just sit here and not do anything."

Sophia grabbed his hand. "Matt, you can't."

Matt looked down at her sorrowfully. "This isn't something I'm going to be talked out of. I'm going to rescue my parents with or without help."

Kenny sighed. "I told you, Soph."

Sophia shook her head and let go of his hand. "What can we do? We can't even leave the Compound anymore."

"You still have access to your dad's old files. Anakin thinks my parents will be kept in one of the safe houses on the East Coast. A list of them will be in those files. We start there. We narrow down where they have to search, and maybe we can convince Wyatt or someone it's worth the risk to check it out."

Sophia nodded slowly. "That's it? You want us to do research."

Matt nodded, not meeting her eyes. "It's all we can do, right now."

"Ok, I can get the files," said Sophia suspiciously.

"Great, thanks."

Beth coughed. "Why meet out here just for that?"

Matt glanced at Nathaniel. "Because, I also want us to start training, really training. The Compound isn't as safe as we want it to be. We need to be able to help protect it. The adults won't like that."

Rebecca scoffed. "That's it? Come on, Matt."

Matt sighed. "Fine, the truth. When we find the right safe house, I'm going to rescue my parents."

"MATT!"

Matt shook his head sharply. "And I'm asking Nathaniel, Kenny, and Richard to join me."

"MATTHEW!"

"NO!"

Kenny and Nathaniel gave their support with small nods.

Richard gulped. "This is how we got my brother killed, Matt."

Matt shook his head. "No, it's not. It's…I can't tell you why, but it's not the same."

"Why?"

Matt dug in his pocket and pulled out a small silver disc with a small antenna sticking out the side. "The place is littered with these." Matt threw the listening device into the fire. "All I'm asking for is you to trust me. We're not alone in this."

The meeting dispersed quickly afterward, leaving Matt more nervous than before.

* * *

A month later the bitter icy February wind bit at Matt cheek as his stared out across a nearly closely frozen lake. He appeared to be alone wrapped in heavy winter closes on the outskirts of a suburb of Chicago. Most of the houses were dark. A few were in ruins. Occasionally a streetlight would flicker on and off. There was no one on the snow-covered street. Matt rubbed his glove-covered hands together to return some feeling to his fingertips. He had been standing in the shadows of a rundown convenience store for fifteen minutes, waiting for his companion.

A flurry of snowflakes announced the presence of another being. Matt narrowed his eyes against the wind and made out the faintest outlines of a massive black feline stalking off into the darkness. His eyes caught the amber eyes of a shaggy timber wolf as she trotted down the street completely at ease. A third figure emerged out of the snow. Kenny was dressed similarly to him but appeared much more comfortable.

"Took you long enough," whispered Matt through chattering teeth.

Kenny shrugged. "Your uncle wanted to make sure we didn't set off any alarm bells."

"Where are my uncles?"

Kenny gestured down the street. Three humans strode down the street triumphantly. One of them raised a hand and a stream of fire erupted out of the cold night air lighting up the whole neighborhood. An eerie whining siren echoed out across the night. Shouts and screams broke through the caterwauling occasionally along with gunfire. The flashes and sparks of magical attacks soon joined in converging on the three figures, Wyatt, Anakin, and Piper Halliwell.

"They sure know how to make an entrance," commented Richard, appearing out of a shower of blue and white orbs. "Aunt Prue says she's located the house with the most powerful wards. They should be down within a few minutes."

Matt nodded still tracking the progress of his uncles and grandmother. A large entourage of combatants surrounded the three. Wyatt's infamous blue shield sprang to life, deflecting attacks as Anakin and Piper took the offensive. For every fire ball or energy ball thrown, a demon or warlock was vanquished. Still, they were no making much of a dent in the numbers. More and more were showing up to join in the fray.

"Rick, orb to Nathaniel. As soon as Prue calls to you, orb the both of you to the house. We'll follow," said Matt.

"Right," said Richard as he orbed away.

Matt glanced at Kenny. "What if this doesn't work?"

Kenny smirked. "Then we die or are captured."

"Always the optimist," muttered Matt.

Kenny laughed. "Come on, you and your uncles have been working on this plan for a month. This is the best chance we've got."

Matt nodded and hugged himself against the cold. Something in the back of his mind shifted and in the distance, a massive glowing dome shimmered for the briefest of moments. "That's the ward."

Kenny grabbed his hand and the two orbed away. They reappeared in front of a plain looking house. Richard and a black panther, Nathaniel, joined them seconds later. In the distance, a wolf howled.

Prue, holding a brightly glowing crystal, greeted them, sweat streaming down her face. "I can't hold the wards down much longer."

Richard gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. "We'll be right back."

Prue forced a smile. "You better be, mister."

The four teens stepped onto the front yard of the house, and the sound of the battle vanished. Matt turned around expecting to see his aunt but found only snow-covered ground. The wards must have returned. They were now alone. Hopefully, the frontal assault by his uncles and grandmother had drawn off enough of the house's defenders that they could sneak through the house, find his parents, and escape without detection.

Matt pulled out the bag of potions his grandmother and grandaunts had brewed for them. He poured a few glass vials into his hand and stuffed the rest back into the magically expanded pocket of his jacket. He handed out a couple of vials to each of his friends.

"My grandma thinks they'll be strong enough to vanish most upper-level demons. We only have a few more so make them count."

Nathaniel growled as a way of a response and stalked off down one of the two passages branching off the entrance of the house.

Matt pulled out a bronze pendant and handed it to Kenny. "If you run into trouble, or you find them use this. It'll let me orb directly to you."

"Even with the wards back up?" asked Kenny, eyeing the direction Nathaniel vanished in.

Matt nodded and looked Kenny directly in the eyes. "They're Anakin's design. He said nothing, but Lucifer's direct intervention will stop them from working."

Kenny gulped and tucked the pendant into his back pocket of his black jeans.

Matt reached out and patted Kenny's shoulder. "Thank you."

"No problem, but if I die I'm coming back and haunting you for life." Kenny smirked and jogged off in search of Nathaniel.

Matt glanced at Richard. "Ready?"

Richard nodded, clutching tightly to the potion vials. "In and out, right?"

"In and out," agreed Matt.

The two slunk down the opposite corridor to their friends. The décor gave nothing away. Pictures of a young mixed race couple stared back at the teens from various photographs hanging on the walls. They passed two rooms. One appeared to be in the process of being converted into a nursery. The second was clearly a home office for the husband.

"I thought this was a CIA safe house," whispered Richard, eyes darting back and forth.

Matt shrugged. "Maybe, the government rented it out. It was one of the older ones on the list of possible decommissioned houses."

Richard sighed. "Can't you sense your dad or mom?"

Matt briefly closed his eyes. He felt a vice-like pressure encase his head, and his eyes snapped up. "There're defensive wards up."

They came to the base of a staircase just outside a small kitchen.

Richard paused. "Doesn't this feel too easy? Shouldn't we've at least met some resistance?"

Matt inwardly agreed with Richard's assessment. "No one is saying demons are smart."

"Lucifer is smart, very smart," argued Richard.

"Look, let's worry about demons when there are demons to worry about," said Matt.

Richard raised his hands up and gestured for Matt to lead the way up.

* * *

Kenny caught up to Nathaniel a dozen paces around the first turn in the corridor. He had passed a room filled with computer screens and an array of telephones. Another room was locked. He easily unlocked it with a snap of his fingers to discover a small arsenal of weaponry neatly displayed around the small room. He recognized a few of the weapons as the specialized equipment of witch hunters. They needed to be cautious. Vanquishing demons was easy, but killing humans was not something he was sure he could do.

"There are witch hunters on the payroll," said Kenny, coming alongside the still Nathaniel.

Nathaniel's tail twitched. His fur covered ears rotated in all directions at random. Suddenly he bared his teeth and the fur on his back stood up. A low hiss breathed out of his lungs. Kenny stiffened and strained to hear what his friend was picking up. He could make out a low muffled whispering. It was coming from behind one of the three remaining doors in their corridor.

"Can you sense if they're mortal or demon?" whispered Kenny out of the corner of his mouth.

Nathaniel swatted him with his tail, and Kenny mimed zipping his lips. The voice or voices behind the door grew louder. A thin line of light appeared beneath the suspected door. It reflected off the polished floor, and the shadow of two legs interrupted the line. The metal door handle jiggled. Kenny pushed Nathaniel to the other side of the corridor where he would remain hidden in shadows thanks to his coloring. Kenny flexed his fingers and ground his teeth.

The door opened. A very muscular man in a tight black t-shirt and loose fitting black cargo pants stepped into the corridor with his back to it. Kenny reacted and gestured with his hands as he tried to remember everything Anakin had told him about this particular use of his powers. The man shuddered and dropped to the ground. Kenny gasped in shock. He muttered a pray that he had not killed the man. There was a shout from the room beyond.

Two more similarly clad man run into the corridor. Kenny blasted the first one into the side of the doorway. The man's head smacked hard against the wood and he collapsed. The second man pulled a gun only to find himself pinned beneath a massive black panther. The giant cat swatted his head with its paw. His head and neck snapped to one side, and he went limp.

Kenny stepped around Nathaniel and the three unconscious men. He entered the room to find himself face to face with a very tall figure. The demon standing in the center of the room had the head of a falcon and glowing black eyes. Kenny threw himself to the floor moment before a golden harpoon skewered him. He rolled back onto his feet and threw out a wall of fire to buy himself time.

Nathaniel, back in human form, charged into the room. He flicked his hands multiple times. Metal objects of various shapes and sizes flew through the air. Even the golden harpoon obeyed Nathaniel's command. The flacon-headed demon backpedaled and threw out a wing to shield himself from the onslaught. Nathaniel threw one of his potion vials at the feet of the demon. The potion puffed and burned a hole in the floor but did nothing to the demon.

Kenny pulled out the pendant and squeezed it. He glanced back at the fight and threw out both of his hands. A torrent of water erupted from the pipes in the wall. The stream of liquid coalesced as a shield before the kneeling teen. The shards of black magic lost all their momentum penetrating the watery shield. They fell to the floor and flickered out of existence.

Kenny waved his hand in the direction of the demon. His dark eyes flickered in his direction and the water evaporated before even reaching the halfway point between them. Despite the avian features of his face, Kenny could tell the demon was grinning. The demon pointed in the direction of Nathaniel. Kenny yelled a warning too late. A nearly invisible sliver of energy briefly connected the demon to his surprised friend. A blob of dark red stained Nathaniel's shirt in the center of his chest. Kenny watched in frozen horror as Nathaniel dropped to the floor, eyes frozen open.

"NO!" screamed someone in the doorway.

The demon's face snapped in the direction of the door. "I'll deal with you next, Matthew."

The door slammed shut. The demon returned his attention to Kenny. "First, I need to fulfill a command from my master."

Kenny stood up and conjured a fire ball in the palm of his hand. "I'll kill you."

"We can try that later. I'm here to offer you a reprieve. My master has learned recently of your unique genealogy. That plus Zachary's testament of your power and usefulness has persuaded him to once again extend a hand of friendship. Accept and you and yours will be spared. We know how terribly afraid you are for Amber. Join us, and she will be treated as royalty."

Kenny ground his teeth. "Any of you go near her, and you'll be begging to die. I'll make sure to come after you first, Montu."

Montu clicked his beak and chuckled. "Defiant. I do like spirit. What makes you think you could hurt me?"

Kenny threw the fire ball. Montu dodged the attack. "That."

Montu held out a hand, producing a silver ring in the form of a snake biting its own tail. "Do you recognize the ring?"

"It's the ouroboros."

Montu chucked the ring to Kenny. The teen caught it.

"The ouroboros has been a symbol used by many, but it started off as the signet symbol of one of Lucifer's first demons, Tiamat. His sister wears a bracelet with a similar symbology. Although, she lost the bracelet and the magical pet it transformed into during a battle against the Halliwell matriarch," said Montu educationally.

Kenny shrugged his shoulders. "So what?"

Montu nodded at the ring. "That ring only glows when in the possession of its rightful owner."

Kenny glanced down at the ring and stifled a gasp. A soft yellow glow encircled the ring, highlighting the serpentine features. "That's…"

"You were adopted, were you not?" asked Montu, clearly enjoying himself.

Kenny threw the ring to the floor. "It's a trick."

Montu shook his head. "No, it's not a trick. I'm sure you've wondered about certain things. You are an elemental through your father's bloodline who only control four of the five elements. Yet, you are able to stand among the Halliwells with your head held high. You are not on par with the first-borns of that Coven, but you are certainly more powerful than a mere elemental should be."

Kenny shook his head, staring wildly around the room. "No. That's not true. Lucien—Anakin told me…"

"The late Lucien Jonas was sole heir to the most ancient line of elementals. He also had absolute control of all five elements. Your father was a bastard mutt, an untrained one at that. No, your power comes from your mother." Montu stepped a little bit closer.

Kenny blinked. "No. Where're Chris and Serena?"

Montu laughed warmly. "The two prisoners are through that door. Once I have your answer, they will be free to leave."

Kenny balled his hands into fists. "Go to hell."

"You are half-demon, Kenny. Elementals have always been more neutral than allies to witches. There is nothing holding you to the path you have so far chosen to walk. Join us, save your loved ones. Be reunited with your long lost mother."

"My mom and dad…"

Montu snapped his beak together sharply. The resulting click echoed. "The mortals hid your true potential from you. They're fearful of who you are."

Kenny smiled. "No, they told me everything they knew. They love me."

"Your father left instructions for you to be introduced to your mother once you came into your powers. Did they tell you that?"

"Don't lie. You suck at it," said Kenny with more confidence. He never met his father, but he had read the letter he had left a million times. His father was a good man. He protected innocents. He would never be in league with a demon.

Montu physically sighed. "You would have made a wonderful prize. Alas, your head will have to do."

Montu's wings snapped open as the demon leaped at Kenny. The door to the office sprang open. Kenny screamed, using his pent up anger and frustration to fuel the sound. The air visibly distorted and reverberated in front of the young elemental. His eyes changed to all black and a fire erupted in the heart of both orbs. Montu's attack slowed and reversed. One moment the demon was flying toward Kenny, talons out stretched ready to eviscerate the teen, and the next he was smashed through the solid brick wall of the office.

Matt and Richard stumbled into the room.

"Kenny?" asked Matt, gaping at the scene.

Richard dropped to one knee over Nathaniel, checking his pulse. "He's still alive."

Matt stared at the whole in the wall. The sound of the battle of the street drifted back in on the freezing air.

"The wards are down," said Kenny, breathing heavily. His eyes were back to normal. He was covered in sweat and was shacking uncontrollably.

"How?" started Matt.

Richard jumped in. "Doesn't matter. We need help."

Kenny stumbled back until his back rested against a bookcase. "They're in there." He nodded in the direction of the other door.

Matt stiffly strode across the room and reached out to open the door. It flew open, nearly hitting him. He jumped back and landed in a defensive posture. He came face to face with his father and mother holding a baseball bat as a makeshift weapon.

"Matt?" gasped Chris, clearly sleep deprived.

Serena dropped the wooden bat and run over to her son. She enwrapped him in a bone-crushing embrace.

"Nathaniel," whispered Kenny, sinking to the floor.

As Chris hurried over to the unmoving shape shifter, Kenny's fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. He picked up the object to discover it was Tiamat's ring. He pocketed the ring and closed his eyes. Soon, unconsciousness overtook him as the adrenal faded.

* * *

AN: So what did you think? There was a lot packed into that chapter. Let me know how I did keeping you entertained.

Until next time!


	8. Where Are You Now

AN1: A chapter that is out almost on time...I might be turning a new leaf. Hope you enjoy.

AN2: This chapter is dedicated to a fabulous reader, Bloodwitch90! I always love your reviews.

* * *

WHERE ARE YOU NOW

Anakin, leaning on a cane, stared out at a bleak sunset. He was aware of the four people behind him, waiting for him to say something. The problem was he had nothing to say which would satisfy them. The outcome of the rescue mission was as much a surprise to him as anyone else. He was expected to have answers, though. He let his shoulders lower, and he ran a finger over the rough stubble of a beard. Slowly, resignation settled in, and he turned to face his questioners.

"None of us witnessed what happened."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Stop avoiding the question. I've spoken to Matt. Kenny took down one of the Ennead. No one else was in that room. You've scanned his aura. Wyatt did, too."

Wyatt spoke up. "He had something more to him than just—I don't know. There is a darkness."

"So what if he is half-demon. He's been an amazing friend to our sons," said Prue.

"This from the only one of us to fall for a demon," snapped Wyatt.

Prue scoffed. "Bullshit. Your bitch girlfriend when you were sixteen nearly killed you and would have killed me."

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut to bloke out the memories. The life of the other Anakin felt stronger and more real since his return. They were moments he did not care to revisit.

"Enough," interrupted Piper, still sporting a black eye from the battle. The tone of her voice put an end to any argument brewing between Wyatt and Prue. "Anakin, what did you learn when you viewed Kenny's aura?"

Anakin's grip on the simple wooden cane tightened. "He is an elemental of mediocre power. He can control all elements but air; however, in the heat of battle, even that limitation may fall away. His strength in magic stems from his other half."

"His demonic half," said Wyatt.

Piper glared at him, warning him to be quiet.

Anakin sighed and nodded. "Yes. He believes his mother was a powerful warlock from a group who felt Wyatt was the reincarnation of their leader. The members of that circle were powerful, but not enough to account for what I can sense. My guess, his mother was at least on par with the Crone in terms of power. His display against Montu suggests an even more powerful parentage. None, of this, changes who the boy is. Like Prue said, he is a friend. From the little I have observed I'd say he is Matt's best friend."

Chris cleared his throat but remained steadfastly speechless under the watchful eye of his mother.

Anakin tapped his cane as he chose his next words. "We can all agree that certain types of black magic corrupt. It can change even the purest of heart, pull them along the path of evil. I do not have the sense that is the type of power we are talking about."

"Demonic powers capable of felling an Ennead? You don't think that type of power is corrupting?" asked Chris incredulously.

"You're the one who wrote his senior thesis on the importance of nurture over nature," argued Prue.

Chris folded his arms defensively. "That was purely talking about normal people. Magic is another matter."

"So no demon could ever do something good? Have you forgotten about Jonathan?"

Wyatt laughed. "Jonathan only turned good after…"

"ENOUGH!" yelled Anakin. He breathed out to steady his voice. "Jonathan was a good man. In the end, he was good."

Wyatt opened his mouth to say something and closed it again with a small shake of his head.

Anakin pursed his lips. "Matthew told you about the feeling of the room after he entered?"

Chris nodded. "It was oily was the best way he could describe it."

Anakin rubbed his chin again. "The lingering aspects of dark magic. It could have been from Montu's use of it."

"His eyes turned completely black," said Chris loudly.

Anakin shrugged. "Like this?" Anakin's eyes turned utterly black and soulless. "It is worrisome but hardly conclusive. You may have many doubts about me, but I hope none of you believe I'm evil."

Piper moved in an attempt to comfort Anakin, but he smiled graciously and remained out of her reach.

"There will be time to worry about this later. Lucifer's making plays in Europe. I think I've stumbled on a possible line of inquiry to aid us against him."

"What!" exclaimed Wyatt and Prue. Chris looked on passively, and Piper shivered against the cold.

Anakin continued. "It would seem this is not the first time mortals have faced a Power alone if my research is correct. It happened once before about a thousand years before the Avatars tried to derail the Grand Design. There are almost no recordings from that time period. It was before written language was invented. Uriel has been less than useful answering my questions on the subject. However, I think I've discovered a possible location where knowledge of that time is stored."

"So what are we waiting for?" asked Wyatt.

Anakin leaned on his cane as an answer. "I still have not recovered from my encounter with Lucifer. The rescue weakened me."

"Then send one of us."

"No. I—it does not feel right. This mission is something I need to complete. I think your time will be better spent cultivating contacts in the city. We need to have more information about Lucifer's comings and goings from the city if we are to attempt another rescue of Zachary." Anakin avoided everyone's gaze as he said those words. He knew exactly what their reaction would be. He knew exactly how to manipulate them into doing what he needed them to do. His stomach twisted and rolled itself into a knot. He hated himself for doing it, but it had to be done.

Wyatt was the first one to speak. "Rescue Zach?"

Anakin nodded turning away from them. "It's time this family was back at full strength. It's time we took the war to Lucifer. If my mission proves successful, it'll give us the opportunity to hurt Lucifer. It'll let us save Zach."

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Anakin risked a looked back to see his mother's concerned face. "Don't do this."

"I can't—there are things I can't tell you. Things left best unsaid. This is the best move forward. I promise you that," said Anakin in a small voice.

Piper slid her hand down her son's arm and rested it gently on his hand. "You're not alone. We're a family. We do this stuff together. Always have, always will."

Anakin nodded once and placed his free hand over her hand and squeezed. "I won't be alone, and I'm not playing Uriel's game anymore. I—I just need…you guys need to be here. Things are going to change in the mortal world. To defeat Lucifer, we're going to need their support. You can win that support soon."

Piper removed her hand. "You're planning on taking Matt with you on this trip, aren't you."

Silence lingered between the group. It was all the confirmation his family needed.

"The hell you are!" exclaimed Chris.

Anakin faced them again. "He'll be in no danger. He needs to feel like he's doing something. If not this, he'll find something else. He's too much like you, Chris. You know he'll get himself into all sorts of trouble and drag the rest of the teens with him. They're not ready to be out there fighting. He can help me with this, and he won't be…"

Chris scoffed, cutting Anakin off. "No. My son is staying where I can protect him. How can you even consider put him in any danger. He's just a kid."

"So was I. So were you. Being a kid won't be enough of an excuse to dissuade him from acting. We've kept them all bottled up here for months. What would you do if you felt you could help innocents but were told you could not?"

Chris narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "That's not fair."

"It's true," reasoned Anakin. "Where I'm going is not a conflict zone. It's not seen any activity recently in the war. And he'll be with me."

"That's not comforting," said Wyatt softly.

Anakin smiled away the hurt. "Perhaps not, but they'd have to kill me a hundred times over before they got anywhere near Matt."

Prue frowned and stepped in the middle of her brothers. "Why Matt? Why not any of the others?"

"It doesn't matter because he's not going." Chris stormed off.

Wyatt glared at Anakin for a moment before following Chris. Prue offered an apologetic half smile and left. Anakin stared down at his feet, willing his emotions back under control keenly aware of his still present mother. The truth was he did not know why he felt it necessary for Matt to join him. The kid was powerful but compared to Anakin he was nothing to talk about. All the texts he had read about the ruins indicated the place was nothing spectacular. He could be in and out of the area in a day. He had gone on similar adventures by himself all year. The only honest reason for his request was he was tired of doing it alone. He wanted to be part of his family again.

"They'll come around. They're just worried about their children," said Piper gently.

Anakin blinked and smiled. "Understandable."

"Anakin, sweetie…"

Anakin shook his head. "No, Mom, really I'm fine. I just—I'm tired. I think I'll head up to bed. Night, Mom."

Piper watched helplessly as her baby boy trudged back into the house. The war was tearing her family apart. A nearby glass oil lamp exploded. The Halliwell matriarch sighed and shuffled off to spend some time with her thoughts.

* * *

Zach stared at himself in the mirror. He felt ridiculous in the black business suit. The last time he had been this dressed up was Homecoming, and, at least, that time he had someone to impress. The current reason for the formal outfit was a meeting with Lucifer and delegate of powerful business leaders from around the world. The war between mortals and magic had not been conducive to making money. With the war winding down, it was time to plan for the future. Lucifer knew he needed to keep the populace happy or risk throwing the world back into chaos.

"You need to stop pulling on it," said Eve, slipped arms around his waist.

Zach removed his hands from the thin black tie. "I hate dressing up."

Eve turned him around and leaned up to kiss him on the lips "But you look so handsome in a suit." She nipped her lower lips seductively as she stepped back.

Zach followed her. "Tease."

Eve smirked. "You've got a meeting to go to, and I've got training with queen bitch."

Zach caught her hand and pulled her back into his embrace. He kissed her hungrily. "Kick her ass," he whispered huskily.

"Always do," replied Eve, disentangling herself from his arms. "Now, go. Lucifer's in a foul mood as it is."

Zach glanced around the room. "But it's so nice in here. And with you here...there's all sorts of stuff we could get up to."

"Later, babe. Right now we need to do our duty."

Zach groaned and playfully stomped his foot. "Fine. But you owe me."

Eve arched an eyebrow. "Really? Are we forgetting about last night?"

Zach's cheeks heated up. "Er—no—never mind. I've got to get…"

Eve walked out the bathroom swaying her hips. Her fighting clothes left little to the imagination, and Zach could not tear his eyes off of her. He swallowed, shook his head to clear his thoughts, and followed her out into his bedroom. She stood by his unmade bed, holding his suit's jacket. He accepted the jacket and pecked her on the cheek.

"See you later?"

Eve nodded. "I'll be waiting."

Zach nodded and orbed out. He orbed into the city near the ruins of the old courthouse. The street was busy but not packed. Humans and demons alike strolled around carefully avoiding anyone they did not know. There was a level of repressed tension hanging in the air. All it would take was a small spark and the city would explode with violence. Everyone ignored his sudden appearance but a few demons quickly crossed the street. His family's reputation still commanded a good deal of fear. Moments later three phoenix witches flamed in behind him. They took up defensive positions. Zach ignored them and walked down the street briskly.

He had only been back in the city a few times since Lucifer's takeover. This was the first time he traveled the streets without Lucifer by his side. He momentarily considered orbing to the Manor, but reason stayed his hand. Any straying from the agreed upon route was ill advised. His good will with his captor could only stretch so far. Lucifer had already expressed his displeasure with Zach's lack of desire to be seen in public at his side. Having a Halliwell as an apprentice only garnered good will if said Halliwell was seen.

"Traitor!" yelled someone.

Zach saw the potion vial just before it hit the ground. He waved his hand, but someone beat him to it. A fire ball destroyed the potion before it could do any damage. A scream turned into a gurgling sputter. Zach searched for the source of the sound. A man in his late thirties lay on the ground in a growing pool of blood.

"Enough," hissed Zach.

The anonymous phoenix assassin standing over the dying man frowned. "He attacked you, sir. I am…"

Zach waggled a singled finger and the phoenix started choking. "I've told you before. We do not kill, not in my name."

He crossed the street without looking. A car screeched to a halt, but Zach ignored it. He reached the pool of blood and breathed out through his nose. Bending down and examined the wound on the man's neck. It was a clean cut. He hand out a single hand and willed it to start glowing. Warmth spread down his arm as his healing power started working. The man woke with a jerk. He spotted who was standing over him and fear washed over his face.

"Don't try that again," warned Zach coldly. He stood up and gestured at the still choking phoenix. "Stop your blabbering."

The phoenix stopped choking and coughed, rubbing his throat. "Sir."

Zach pointed at the man. "Call the police. Remain here until they arrive and give a fill account of what happened."

"But, sir…"

Zach narrowed his eyes dangerously. "I have no problem vanquishing demons, phoenix. Shall I demonstrate?"

The phoenix quaked and shook his head.

"Good," said Zach straightening his jacket. "You two, try and keep up. We're running late."

Two blocks later, they reached one of the few undamaged skyscrapers. A long line of important looking black cars was parked outside, and middle-aged men and women were slowly making their way into the building. Armed security agents weaved between the business leaders. To one side stood a small group of men. Zach recognized them as being Lucifer's agents. He did not see the Power, however, and frowned.

"I thought Lucifer was going to be here."

The closest phoenix glanced at him in fear and concern.

Zach smirked. "Relax. I'm not expecting you to know. Make yourselves more presentable."

Zach waited for a moment and strode over to the gathering. A tall muscular security guard stepped into his path and stopped him by placing a hand on his chest. "Hold it, small fry."

Zach slowly looked down at the hand and then back into the face of its owner. "Remove your hand, or I'll remove it from your arm."

The man laughed. "Turn around and walk away, kid."

Zach gave the man an unimpressed look. "Do you know who I am?"

A small flicker of recognition appeared in the man's eyes. The man opened his mouth and screamed. Flames erupted from the ground he stood on and swallowed him. Zach stepped back and shielded his face with his hand. The crispy and blackened body dropped to the ground at his feet.

"That was not necessary, Lucifer," said Zach.

Lucifer appeared at his side dressed in a matching black suit, holding a steaming cup of tea. "Oh, I disagree, my young apprentice."

Zach growled and strode away from Lucifer.

"Stop, Zachary," called Lucifer.

Zach paused and spun around. "He was doing his job."

"He insulted you and by extension me. I do not stand for insults," whispered Lucifer dangerously, "not from lowly peons. Now, come, we have guests to greet and a meeting to hold."

Zach looked at the burnt body. "I think I'll give it a miss."

Lucifer chuckled darkly. "You have no choice in the matter. This is the start of the new order. If you want your family to remain unchallenged, you will attend this meeting. It is time for magic to see the light."

"Stunts like that won't buy you any brownie points," argued Zach. "And I won't be associated with that."

Lucifer cocked his head to the side. "Would you prefer that be young Matthew?"

Zach balled up his hand. "No."

"Then be a good little boy, and do as you are told."

Forcing his hands to relax, Zach glared at Lucifer. "You haven't won."

Smirking, Lucifer swung an arm over Zach's shoulders and gestured out at the crowd of onlookers. "This war in about the hearts and minds of the mundane and idiotic populace. I have them. After today, I'll have a vested interest in every major international corporation. They'll bend to my will or perish, and, besides, I can make them a lot of money. Your uncle and my delusional brother will keep kicking, I'm sure, but it'll amount to little more than death throws. Tomorrow, I'll finally get to turn my attention to more important matters and ensure your training is completed. Zachary, you chose the winning team. Smile, and know your family remains safe as long as they stay the hell out of my way."

Security slowly marshaled the group into the building. Lucifer and Zach remained outside until the last business leader was ushered inside.

"Your presence is not required inside. Return to the island. I will join you shortly," commanded Lucifer, straightening his tie.

Zach frowned. "I thought…"

"Dangerous, that, thinking. It tends to get you in all sorts of trouble," interrupted Lucifer. "Run along. Isis was held up in meetings, so young Eve will be free."

His three phoenix witch bodyguards closed in around him. Zach shrugged and walked away, thinking. There was no press. He felt played and could not work out how. Once out of sight of Lucifer, Zach snapped his finger and the three bodyguards froze.

"Uriel!"

The sound of rustling leaves announced the arrival of the cloaked Power. The world around them stopped completely. Zach admired the display of power even as his frown deepened.

"What the hells was that about?" asked Zach.

Uriel, his face hidden in the shadow cast by his cowl, clucked his tongue. "My brother needed you distracted."

Zach threw his hands in the airs. "I worked that out. Why?"

"What is at his headquarters he would not want you focused on?"

"Nothing. Apep and Set have ritual and potion labs, but they're heavily guarded. After the fiasco with the Devil king or lord or whatever I don't think they'll be messing with summoning anymore of them for a while. The rest of the Ennead have their offices elsewhere. Anything Lucifer needs to be kept secret from me can be done in the dozen other strongholds he has. There is no point to this." Zach paced back and forth.

Uriel tilted his head to one side. "There is always a reason. Think."

"You said his big plan is to turn me evil. No way in hell is he going to do that."

"My brother is the master of deceit and craftiness. Where are you vulnerable?"

Zach laughed. "You're asking me where I'm vulnerable. Shouldn't you know that? Aren't you all knowing?"

Uriel straightened up. "Why would I need you, then?"

Zach tried to kick a pebble. It remained rooted in place, causing him to nearly topple over and curse loudly. "I'm not going to turn evil."

"Good, I am glad."

"I hate these chats."

Uriel shrugged. "You summoned me, child."

"To get some answers!" Zach snapped.

Uriel bowed his head. "I cannot supersede free will. Mortals are free to make mistakes. I cannot stop that even to put an end to my brother's plans to destroy the Grand Design."

Zach hunched his shoulders and growled. "Mistake? What mistake?"

"Find your weaknesses and fix them, child. You are walking a fine line. It would not take much for Lucifer to gain his victory." Uriel vanished, and motion returned to the world.

Zach kicked the pebble again, sending it jumping into the middle of the street. "I'm orbing back to the island," he snapped to his bewildered bodyguards, orbing out before they could stop him.

* * *

Matt sat at one end of the dining room table. Maps, crumbling pieces of parchment, and yellowed scrolls were scattered across the wood surface. Three laptops sat nearby each displaying another array of photographs and charts. In the center lay the Book of Shadows opened to one of the few passages written in Latin. Kenny sat in front of the sacred tome, puzzling over the passage. Also, in the room were Anakin and his father. The two adults were arguing in hushed tones.

Matt sighed heavily and drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "You read Latin?"

Kenny looked up and smiled sheepishly. "No. You?"

Matt shook his head. "So, what are you looking at?"

Kenny shifted the Book closer and switched seats. He pointed at a section in the center of the page. "Isn't that a triangle with three sixes?"

Matt ran his finger of the indicated part of the page. There was an embossed symbol. It was faded and hardly discernable. "Maybe."

Kenny pulled out his cellphone and pulled up a website. There were a dozen images of the same symbol. "It's the symbol of the Beast, according to the Book of Revelations."

Anakin cleared his throat. Both boys jumped. "Relax," said the older witch, leaning on his cane. "You are correct. Six, six, six is meant to be the mark of the Beast or antichrist. Whether that has any connection to the similar symbol in the Book is debatable. The passage was written by one of our ancestors who had a brief encounter with one of the Fallen Powers."

Matt looked down at the page. "Who?"

"Melinda Warren. She and Aeglaeca were briefly involved before she started up with a warlock by the name of William Tate. According to her, Aeglaeca did not take rejection well, but he was limited in what he could do to her thanks to the intervention of 'Higher Powers.' So, he cursed her. She was to die at the hands of a lover and leave her loved ones destitute."

Eyes wide, Matt stared at Anakin. "How is that not bigger news?"

Anakin shrugged. "It explained why Aeglaeca targeted our family. He might have accomplished his goals if he had not made them so personal. At the moment, the story doesn't help us."

"That's all this book has on Powers?" asked Kenny timidly.

Anakin smiled warmly and took a seat, groaning a bit as he did so. "Well, no, there is the section on Hellequin, but it's useless. The Book is simply a recording of our family's history with magic. It would appear after Melinda the Powers left our family alone until, well, my brothers, sister, and I."

"Lucky you," said Matt sarcastically. "Look, why'd you ask us to meet you?"

Anakin closed the Book and set it to one side. "To ask you to join me on a mission."

Kenny's mouth fell up. "Jy grap…"

"I'm very serious. As you can see, I'm not exactly in top form. Some of my allies have found clues that could prove useful, and time is essential."

"Couldn't you send someone else?" asked Matt.

Anakin studied his nephew. "Who would you suggest?"

"Wyatt or—or Penny and Pyrrha?"

"Penny and Pyrrha are very capable witches and Pyrrha is an excellent researcher, but they are needed here. If there is an attack on the Compound again, Wyatt will be more able to protect and fight. Your father has argued he should go, but he is still recovering from his capture."

Kenny picked up a random map. "So kids are the next best thing?"

"If you do not think you're up to it, that is fine. I can go alone."

Matt shook his head vehemently. "No. No. We'll go, right, Kenny?"

Kenny stared down at the map and kept silent. He really wanted time to research the ring. He was acutely aware of its cold hard weight in his jean's pocket.

"I don't think we will see much in terms of demons or other obstacles. The ruins I would like to visit are remote and well outside any of the combat zones. Operatives in the area have never reported any hostile activity. I doubt Lucifer even knows about the ruins, or if his does he doesn't think they're important."

Kenny ran his fingers over the rough parchment, following the thin blue line on the map. "You're important, though. He'll come after you."

Anakin shrugged. "Perhaps. He has, for the most part, left me alone. Whether out of fear or something else, I don't know. I'm not saying it won't be dangerous. The world is very dangerous. I just thought you would like the chance to do something more than run evacuation drills and read up on obscure magical histories."

Matt barely contained his smile to a smirk. "It'll just be us?"

"Yes, at least until we're in the country. Once there, a local guide will join us. There is a fear of curses and other defensives, so we'll have to reach the ruins without magic."

Matt stood up to get a better look at the largest of the maps. He did not recognize any of the names on it. "Where are we going?"

"It'll be best not to discuss details here. We're still unsure if any of the bugs are still active."

Kenny frowned. "Shouldn't that be high on the priority list?"

"They've proven useful. The clean up is progressing slowly in order to extend our advantage. At the same time, we need to eventually clear them all or it'll be suspicious." Anakin closed his eyes and rubbed his thigh. "We leave within the week. Take your time reviewing the maps and the information on the computers. We'll meet again tomorrow."

Matt watched is uncle struggled to his feet and exit the room, leaning heavily on the black cane. He swallowed, wondering how much damage the rescue of his parents had done to Anakin's recovery. The witch was their greatest weapon and best chance at survival. He hoped his insistence on a quick rescue had not crippled their chances at a greater victory. Still, having his parents back was important.

"Are you seriously considering this?" asked Kenny, breaking his train of thought.

Matt blinked. "What? Oh, yeah, of course. Why not?"

Kenny scoffed. "Because it's crazy! It's a wild goose chase. You'd be putting your life on the line for the possibility of finding something. And even if we find something it might not be anything. Dude, I know you've been feeling…"

Matt held up his hand, cutting off his friend. "Don't start. This has nothing to do with that."

"Thing's haven't been right between you and Sophie," continued Kenny.

Matt pulled a face. "No."

"You should be talking to her. Running off on crazy adventures isn't going to fix anything. It won't bring her dad back." Kenny leaned back in his chair.

Matt folded his arms across his chest, angry. "Don't come if you don't think it's important. I'm going. I'm going crazy in this place. It's not in me to do nothing. Not when I know there's something I could be doing to help."

Kenny sighed heavily. "I really made friends with the wrong Halliwell."

Matt laughed. "You know you love me."

"That's the problem."

* * *

When The European Union was reformed after the Jonathan affair it relocated its headquarters from Brussels to a temporary heavily fortified location in Berlin. Germany's history with its magical population meant it was the best informed and prepared nation in the world to deal with the magical threat. Unfortunately, its more publicized history meant it was a poor permanent choice. It took fourteen years for the various governments to settle on a more desirable location. In the end, inertia won out and Pan-European Parliament relocated to The Hague in time to weather the rise and fall of the Second American Civil War.

The Hague was already home to the International Court of Justice, and the International Criminal Court along with hundreds of other international governmental organizations. It had the infrastructure and the reputation to host the governing body for Europe. The European Union started as an economic treaty, but, with the interlude of wars and international crises, it transformed into a true ruling authority, which eventually controlled all European nations, save for Russia and the United Kingdom.

Lucifer stood outside the neo-classical building, which served as the headquarters for the parliament. He looked up into the sky and breathed in the crisp, icy air. He adjusted his wool scarf and smiled. A woman, wearing a lot of leather and high heel boots, approached him confidently.

"Don't you love this weather?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

The woman came to a stop, pocketing her leather gloves. "I prefer the tropics."

Lucifer lowered his head and stared at her. "You have been missed, Mafdet."

Mafdet looked right back at him with her chocolate brown eyes. "Your will takes time to enforce, sir, especially if you want it done quietly."

Lucifer nodded and offered her a Styrofoam cup of tea. She shook her head. He took a sip and breathed out in pleasure. "America cannot brew a decent cup of tea. How are the negotiations in Asia going?"

"The Koreas and Japan have seen reason. China remains resolute in its claim for neutrality. I have operatives in place to persuade them to see things your way. Without the support of China or Japan, most other countries will capitulate. Only the subcontinent will offer resistance."

Lucifer bobbed his head. "Leave India alone. It'll take care of itself in time. Turn your attention to Africa. I have a feeling we need to secure it against our enemies."

Mafdet bowed her head. "As milord wills. Any particular area I should focus on first?"

"Yes, there is a small town in the heart of the dark continent which still pays homage to the same deities worshiped by their ancestors before the foundations for the pyramids were laid. You should pay them a visit, and remind them of the dangers of angering their gods."

Mafdet glanced back at the building behind her. "What about the men and women in there?"

Lucifer's evil smile grew. "Make it loud."

* * *

Kenny stared up through the small clearing in the leafy canopy. The afternoon rainstorm had passed, but water still trickled and dripped down through the thick forest above him. The small clear let him see the clear night sky filled with more stars than he ever remembered seeing even on the star watching night trips he took with his grandfather. A small sad smile lingered on his face from the memory. He missed his grandfather.

His fingers slipped into the pocket of his cargo pants and rubbed against cold metal. He glanced around. The campsite was silent and still. A fire crackled and burned low nearby. On the far side of the fire were set up three tents. Anakin and Matt shared the largest tent. Their local guide slept in the second slightly smaller one. The last and smallest tent was his.

He pulled out the ring and let it rest in his palm. It shone with a slightly blue-white glow, not as bright as the first time but still enough to cast his face in a sharp contrast of light and shadow. The engraved serpent biting its own tail appeared to slither, but he dismissed the movement as a result of the flicking firelight. The ring was a symbol of everything he did not know.

He had never considered being adopted as a fault or a flaw. He loved his mom and dad. He loved his sister. He would not trade the relationship he had with them for the world, but ever since he discovered his powers he had felt a small hole in his heart. The desire to know about his biological mother and father was easily explained as a need to understand his powers, but he knew it extended deeper than that. It was a desire to find out where he was from. More importantly, it meant figuring out if he was a danger to his friends and family.

"That is an interesting ring."

Kenny jumped, nearly dropping the ring. He quickly stuffed it away ad spun around. A half-cat half-mantis thing stood by the fire. Their local guide was an entomata, a highly intelligent magical creature. They were the guardians of the ruins they had come to explore. Even though he had been in the company of Ralph, his chosen English name, for four strenuous days, Kenny still found the sight of him disconcerting. His four legs bent at the wrong angle, and his lime green cat eyes never blinked.

"It's nothing. Just forgot I had it in my pocket," lied Kenny.

Ralph clicked his powerful black mandibles together. "Your watch is up."

Kenny nodded and climbed to his feet awkwardly. His left foot had fallen asleep. "Thanks."

"Time is difficult to keep track of out here. You need sleep, though, I think. Your eyes are red."

Kenny rubbed his eyes. "Maybe you're right." His eyes were not red because of lack of sleep.

"Tomorrow we reach the edges of the ruins. Rest your eyes, young human. Dream peaceful dreams. You will soon be on sacred ground."

Kenny hid his confusion and waved his good night. He stumbled into his tent and unzipped his sleeping bag. The night was too warm to sleep inside the puffy sleeping bag, but he struggled to sleep unless he had a blanket over him. The ground of the tent was charmed to be soft if still lumpy. He lay down, pulled the sleeping bag over him, and drifted off to sleep.

Morning brought with it another drenching rain. Since they could not risk using any significant amount of magic this close to the ruins, they suffered the wet and weary trek, tripping over branches and vines often. Despite his still-healing injury, Anakin easily kept pace with their guide. It was Kenny and Matt who struggled the most. Neither teen was willing to admit their exhaustion, despite the adults' continual voicing of concern. They did not want to be the ones to slow them down.

They arrived at the edge of the forest just after lunchtime. Lunch had consisted of a tasteless porridge and dried animal meat cooked by Ralph. Anakin risked some magic to at least give them some sort of sugary drink. Kenny was too thirsty to ask what the drink was. All he knew was it quenched his thirst better than any soft of soft drink he had ever tasted. Kenny was the last one out of the forest. He stumbled into the clearing and gasped at the scene before him.

A massive moss-covered temple stood in the distance. Nearer to them was a primitive village of mud huts with straw roofs. The village was hardly a surprise. It was the type of African village often depicted in Hollywood movies. His gasp was elicited by the row of stakes on the outskirts of the village. A head topped each of the stakes, an entomata head. Ralph let out a painful meowing whine and dropped to his knees.

Anakin straightened up, leaving no weight on the staff, a replacement for his cane. His eyes narrow and alert, he motioned for Matt and Kenny to remain behind him. Kenny remained motionless. There were, at least, a hundred heads. The entire village was dead.

"Dead, gone! Defiled! This is the work of angry gods. I should not have brought you," cried Ralph.

"I promise you, this was not the work of gods."

Ralph crawled forward, away from them. "Get away. Leave this place. The gods do not want you here."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Stand up and be quiet. Whoever did this, might still be near."

Rolling on the ground, Ralph continued to cry out, slipping into a language Kenny did not understand. It sounded did not sound like a language at all, but more a mixture of animal calls. He glanced over at Anakin, who ignored the display of suffering. The witch stood very anxious and on guard. Matt moved to help Ralph, but a clap of power rooted him to the spot.

"No, stay there. We're not alone."

Matt stared at his uncle. "But he's…"

Anakin looked over his shoulder. "Entomata are gifted warriors. Something just slaughtered an entire village of them. Until we figure out what we're up against, you stay there."

Matt grumbled but did not move. Kenny inched toward his friend.

"Um…"

Matt nodded. "I know."

Anakin kneeled down next to Ralph and placed a hand on the man's fur-covered arm. He whispered something, and the man stilled and nodded his head. Suddenly Ralph's body rippled and shrank to half the size. He sprouted wings and took off. Kenny tried to follow his progress, but even as he rose into the air, Ralph's body continued to shrink until he was no bigger than a bumblebee.

Anakin used his staff and drew some symbols on the ground. The stakes along with the skewered heads vanished into the ground. He straightened up and strode over to the two awaiting teens. He tossed his staff over to Matt and picked up his backpack. He dug around inside of it for a few moments and pulled out a laptop. He booted it up.

"What…"

"Before his death, Adelrich provided the resistance with a great deal of technology. This is a laptop with the ability to link to a number of spy satellites operated by the US and its allies. I'm hoping to be able to pull up a few images of this region," explained Anakin.

Kenny leaned in closer. "That's wicked."

Anakin's fingers danced over the keys. The screen flashed and flickered through images. "It's a gross invasion of privacy. There."

The images of the screen slowed, and Anakin pointed at a dot on the screen. It was clearly a video of a section of the jungle with a clearing in the center. Slowly Anakin zoomed in and the picture pixelated. He typed in a few more commands and the image cleared up. It was the village. Hundreds of tiny figures were running around, fleeing a single figure. This being was different from the rest. It was tawny and had massive black wings extending out of its back. Something flashed in its hand and ten of the darker smaller figures flew apart, leaving a trail of red liquid.

"Mafdet," breathed Anakin.

"What!" exclaimed Matt softly. "But I thought…"

"I was wrong." Anakin snapped the laptop shut. "Fuck."

Kenny stared around them wildly. "Mafdet's an Ennead?"

Anakin nodded. "She's Lucifer's assassin. We need to go."

"But—but if Lucifer sent her here if he's interested in the ruins, doesn't that mean there's probably something here?" asked Matt barely able to keep his voice from shaking.

Anakin ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Yes. It means there definitely something here, but…"

"Then we've got to get it," said Matt louder.

"It's not worth risking you and Kenny."

Matt folded his arms and gave Anakin a look, imitating Piper. "We're already in danger. We can't keep skirting around battles with Lucifer. He's going to win that way. We've got to get an upper hand. This could be it. I say we go and find it. Kenny?"

Kenny gulped. "Is she still here?"

"That's what I've got Ralph figuring out."

"Could you take her?" asked Matt.

Anakin rubbed his thigh. "It'd be close. I'd prefer to not test it."

"Then we've got to be quick. What are we looking for?"

Anakin sighed. "It'll be a depiction of a story. A scroll, maybe, or an artist's rendition. I can't be sure. No one's entered the temple since before the pyramids at least."

All three of them looked up. Something exploded in the air above the village. Kenny had a horrible feeling he knew exactly what the something was.

* * *

Richard stood in the doorway silently watching the occupants of the next room. The adults were gathered at the Ingerman household discussing plans and things they did not want the kids to know about. Ordinarily he would have argued against the secrecy, but with Matt and Kenny away he did not feel up to fighting with his mom and dad. Instead, he was relegated to being entertainer and babysitter along with the other teens for the children.

Sophia who was still having a hard time with the death of her father opted to wall herself off in the nursery alone. He had gone up to check on her. Little Ivan was fast asleep, and baby Parker was babbling to herself in her cot. Sophia sat in the rocking chair, staring off into space. She had not even noticed him. He hoped Matt got back soon and realized how much pain his girlfriend was in.

The disquieting thoughts of Sophia and her family were driven momentarily out of his mind at the scene that greeted him downstairs. The little girls had convinced Beth and Rebecca to hold a spa day of sorts. They had even roped in Alex and Nathaniel to join them. The two males were currently sitting on the floor and grimacing as the twins, Pippa and Philomela, did their makeup. Patience, Paxton and Peggy were busy doing each other's nails with Rebecca supervising between laughing at her boyfriend's predicament.

The reason he was frozen in the doorway sat in the other corner of the room nearest the fireplace. Young Phebe stood with her little tongue sticking out of her lips as she concentrated on not messing up. Her chosen model was Beth. She sat with her eyes resting closed as the younger girl applied eye shadow. The scene was cute, and somehow it took his breath away.

For a few weeks, now, he had noticed how nervous he got around his dead brother's girlfriend. When she stood near him or their fingers brushed his heart would race, and breathing became impossible. Her smile could light up his day. He noticed how she only had a dimple on the left and not on the right. Her eyes expressed her true emotions no matter how hard she tried to hide them. At night thoughts of her were the last on his mind, and the first in the morning. Somehow he had fallen for his brother's girl.

Michael and he had liked the same girl before. It was rare, but it happened. They squalled and fought about who would get to ask said girl out. It never failed that Michael always got the girl. He had rotten luck when it came to dating and love. He had a grand total of three girlfriends, and one of them was a girl from back in grade school. That relationship lasted a grand total of three lunch periods and a kiss on the cheek. The second and third girls were from high school. One of them was quite serious until she cheated on him. He had sworn off woman after that torrid affair.

Patience walked up to him. "Can we do your hair?"

He looked over at the group of expecting girls and shrugged. "It is getting a bit long to just let it alone."

Patience clapped her hands together excitedly and grabbed his hand, dragging him over to the group. He sat down and looked over at a smiling Rebecca.

"You're enjoying this too much."

Rebecca laughed. "Nah, I'm enjoying just the right amount."

Richard jerked his head in Nathaniel's direction. "So how do you like your guy's new look? Not too clownish for you?"

Rebecca chuckled. "I suppose. I may get them to style him in his panther form. I always liked cats with hair accessories. Those cute little pink bows or…"

"I can hear you," said Nathaniel loudly. "OW!" One of the twins had been in the process of putting on the massacre and poked him in the eye when he moved to talk.

Giggling, Rebecca covered her mouth. "Oh, you poor dear. Do you need me to kiss it and make it better."

The room was divided on the subject. Most of the younger kids and Alex made fake vomiting sounds. The older girls expressed their agreement in the proposal. Patience regained Richard's attention by spraying his hair with cold water.

"Yikes! Warn a fella next time, will ya?"

Patience muttered her apology and started brushing his hair in all directions. Paxton and Peggy started pulling out pins and bows and bands from a Tupperware container. Richard sat still, eyeing the girls with some apprehension. He did not feel like looking like a clown, but at least, it was just his hair.

"You should do his makeup as well."

Richard groaned. 'Thanks."

Beth sat knelt down beside him and picked up a purple bow. She stuck it in his hair. Her fingers brushed over his ear, and he shivered. "What? I like my men well groomed."

Richard forced himself to keep breathing evenly. "You like guys in eyeliner?"

Beth titled her head to the side and squinted. "You'd look good with eyeliner. And some glitter eye shadow."

Richard stuck out his tongue. "No. No glitter."

The girls squealed and hurried off. Patience continued messing with his hair, leaving him defenseless.

"Really, guys. No glitter. I hate glitter."

"Who hates glitter?" asked Beth.

Richard scrunched up his nose. "Bad preschool memories."

Beth smiled. "Oh, really? Michael never told me about this."

"No, he wouldn't have. I swore him to absolute secrecy. No one knows about it. Not even my dad. Just mom and Michael."

Patience held up a mirror. Richard looked at it and smiled. Every strand of hair was pinned or tied by some hideous flowery accessory.

"Looks good."

Patience smiled. "Wait, here. I'll go find where they are with the makeup."

Richard groaned again. "You've created monsters."

"All little girls like to play with makeup. All we did was give them some helpful hints."

Richard arched an eyebrow. "Pippa and Philomela are very cute, but there's no way they convinced Alex to let them do that to him."

Beth shrugged. "Girls have their ways."

Richard coughed, covering his mouth. "I'm never having girls."

"Oh, come on, you know you love this. Stop being a spoilsport."

The girls returned with arms full of brushes and containers of powders.

"I swear. No glitter," warned Richard half-heartedly.

Beth batted her eyelashes, and he knew he would sit through whatever the little girls wanted to put him through. Half an hour later he was staring at himself in the mirror. There was no glitter, thankfully. Still, the girls managed to use every single the type of makeup available to them. He shuddered at the idea of removing the mess. Rebecca and Nathaniel had taken the girls and Alex outside for a snowball fight.

Richard wet his hands and splashed water on his face, rubbing hard. Very little came off. Someone knocked on the bathroom door. He looked at his wet face in the mirror.

"Come in," he said dejectedly.

Beth opened the door, carrying a pink packet of what looked like baby wipes. She stepped inside and closed the door.

"Most makeup is waterproof these days."

Richard rubbed his face. "So how do you take the stuff off?"

Beth held up the packet of what looked like baby wipes. "With these."

She pulled out a wipe and stepped up to him. Her shoe's toes touched the side of his shoe. She reached up. He ducked away.

"Wow, I can—um—do that."

Beth nodded slowly. "I know. But I want to."

She hopped up onto the counter and pulled him in closer by his loose shirt. He shuffled into the spot between her legs. She leaned up and started wiping away the makeup. He could feel her hot breath against his skin, and his body reacted. He squeezed his eyes shut and gulped.

"Something wrong? Is it burning you?"

"Um—er, no," swallowed Richard. "No—um—it's—er…"

Beth reached over and pulled out a new wipe. She wiped away the blush from his cheek. "Bend down a bit so I can do your eyes."

Richard nodded stiffly. She wiped away the eye shadow. She worked quickly and efficiently.

"Why do you avoid me? Did I do something?"

Richard shook his head slightly. "No, no. You—I've not been avoiding you. We've just—ah—busy."

"Right," said Beth unconvinced.

Richard risked opening one eye. She looked saddened by his answer. He cleared his throat. "It's—I have been busy, honest. Wyatt and Chris have been trying to help me gain access to a wider arrange of my powers. And then there's the physical combat training Suyana and Phoebe are putting us all through. I've…"

"We're all busy, Rick. Somehow, the others still find time to hang out. You—you've been absent. I thought, maybe, you were still—you know because of Mike. But I've talked to Rebecca and the others. You just miss the times I'm with them." Beth stopped wiping away makeup. "There finished."

Richard opened both of his eyes. His eyes locked onto her eyes, and he could not look away.

"I just—we've hung out a lot since Mike died. I've kind of gotten used to you being there. I—I like you being there."

Richard felt his heart jump in his chest. "I'm—we kissed."

Beth nodded. "I remember."

"I can't…"

Beth frowned, looking down. "Why not? It's—I miss him. I love him. I always will. He was my first real love. I, also, know he wouldn't want me to remain stuck on him. He would want me to be happy. I'm sure he'd want you to be happy too."

Richard scratched the back of his neck. "It's not that—he was my brother, my twin brother! And you—you're—you were his girl. His girl."

"It sucks, but he's not around anymore. I—that kiss. There's something there. I know you felt it, too. It's not disrespectful to his memory, Rick. I promise you, that's the last thing I'd ever want."

Beth spread her legs a little wider and played with the bottom of his shirt. She looked back up into his eyes and bit her lower lip. She blinked slowly and breathed out. Richard licked his parched lips and closed is eyes. He leaned in. Their lips brushed together. Sparks flew between them.

"Beth," started Richard. Beth cut him off by crashing her lips back into his. She kissed him hungrily. After a moment, he gave in and returned the kiss. After months of feeling hollow, Richard Brooks felt whole again. He pulled Beth closer to him and lifted her off the bathroom counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and supported some of her weight with her arms around his neck. He effortlessly carried her out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. The whole way they continued to kiss.

He lowered her onto his bed. She let go of him, and they broke their kiss. She stared up at him. Her hair spread out around her head like a halo. The bottom of her sweater rode up her stomach revealing flawless skin and taut muscles. He reached down, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and pulled it off. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her, looking into her deep eyes.

"Are you sure?"

She answered him by leaning up and kissing him, pulling him on top of her. Both teens let out satisfying groans. Clothes were quickly removed. Kisses traveled further down. For a blissful period, life was normal and peaceful.

* * *

Eve stood in the marble-clad bathroom and ran a hand over her stomach, fear dancing over her face. She shook her head, ridding herself of the notion. They had always been careful, very careful. She took a potion and was on the pill. They always used protection. It was impossible. It could not be true. She let her loose fitting white shirt fall back down, covering her stomach. It was too early to worry. She could just be late.

She leaned against the wall and softly hit her head against it. They were too young for this to be happening. The world was in a state of upheaval. They could not do this, now. She was not even sure if Zach would want to do it. He loved her, but it could be a love of convenience. He did not have anyone else he trusted in here. There was another he loved still. Despite, knowing the truth, deep down he still loved her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them away angrily. Phoenix warriors did not cry. They were cold hearted. They were loyal only to their clan. They did not fall in love with witches. They certainly did not fall in love with a witch they were charged with guarding. She had screwed up. If anyone found out about this she would never be able to return to her clan, her coven, her family.

There were stories and rumors of another Phoenix who fell in love with a witch. She had been assigned with the task of killing the witch, but instead had let herself be seduced. Upon finding out the truth, the witch had vanquished the supposed love of his life, his fiancé. Eve had always sworn she would never let anything like that happen to her. Then Lucifer had arrived, and all her plans were turned upside down.

She needed to slip away from the island. There were simple tests to find out the truth. Even if the test was positive she still had options. There were potions that made the process almost painless. The mortal way had also advanced considerably. It no longer even left scars or, at least, that is what she heard. Unsanctioned propagation was an extreme offense. Phoenix women always kept up to date with the latest and best options should they find themselves in need of them.

"Babe, are you done?" called Zach, through the bathroom door.

Zach was a surprise to her. He was nothing like the stories of the Halliwells lead her to believe them to be. He was kind and gentle but not naïve about it. He understood how his kindness could be seen as a weakness especially among demons. Somehow, he found a way to walk that delicate line. He commanded the respect and fear of the demon hordes but still managed to not be a megalomaniac. Every action he took was for the good of the whole, and not simply to bring himself more glory or power. She doubted even Lucifer understood just how dangerous Zach was. He could in time take over for Lucifer. He could become the greatest leader evil had ever had, and he would be the most beloved one.

She could not have helped but to fall for him. He was handsome. He was powerful. He treated her as an equal and friend. She had never had that before. Her peers always mocked and jeered her. Her mentors looked down on her. She was the result of an unsanctioned pregnancy between her Phoenix mother and a powerful warlock. In order to survive and be respected in the clan, she had to make sacrifices. One of those sacrifices was she remained friendless. She could never risk such a weakness. Even when her uncle became the coven's leader, she had to fight for everything.

"Babe?"

She closed her eyes. "Almost ready."

A baby would be a weakness, a weakness for both of them. She would have to find a moment alone. Chinatown was not as heavily surveilled and patrolled as the rest of the city. She could buy a test there. Then she would know. Then she could make a decision.

* * *

The inside of the temple was laced with traps and tripwires. The architects who designed the complex were sadistic psychopaths decided Matt. None of the traps would kill immediately but instead left their victim in excruciating pain. Without his uncle's scary clairvoyance, none of them would still be running for their lives.

Mafdet had not been alone. She was accompanied by a dozen devils. Unlike the devils, which attacked the Compound and killed his great-grandfather, these were clever. They laid out ambushes. They attacked from behind and never alone. Each time they were beaten back, they learned and incorporated the knowledge into their next attack. The last attack had nearly overwhelmed them. Only the triggering of a fleshing-eating curse by one of the devils had saved them.

One thing Matt could not figure out was the lack of an attack from Mafdet. The Ennead with the head of a golden mongoose remained satisfied in letting the devils do all her dirty work. She stood far away and watched each battle in silence.

They reached another fork in the passage. Up until this point, his uncle had led them with unswerving direction, choosing a path in moments, but this crossroads gave him pause. Matt rested his arm against the smooth slightly damp wall and rested his forehead against his forearm, breathing heavily. He had always enjoyed running and, thanks to an interest in sports, was in better than average shape. Still, no one could run like they had for so long and not be winded.

Kenny was panting heavily; sweat covered his face, which resembled a ripe tomato. The young elemental clearly lacked the physical endurance of the other two witches. He did not complain but was thankful for the rest.

"I have no memory of this place," murmured Anakin in an uncanny impersonation of Gandalf.

Matt stood back up, placing both hands behind his head and breathing deeply. "Memory? You've been here before?"

Anakin shook his head. "This place is steeped in raw magic. I can sense its, feel it like currents in a stream. But this place is a void. Neither path feels right."

"Feels," heaved Kenny, "we've been running like crazy following your feelings?"

"Magic's feelings. Feelings from my connection to the Powers. It's more reliable than it sounds."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "But even the great Powers have blind spots?"

"Yes, they do. None of them can find the Garden. The resting place of the Ark remains a mystery. There are greater things at work in those places. Religion, whatever faith you wish to believe in, is based at least in part on a true, shared history of the universe. Powers are angels, not gods."

Kenny threw his hands in the air. "What are you babbling about?"

Anakin shook his head and sat down, closing his eyes. "It doesn't matter. Give me a moment."

"Those devil things aren't going to give us a few moments," argued Kenny.

Matt stepped up beside his friend and squeezed his shoulder. "Let him think. Here, have a drink." He passed him the last bottle of conjured drink from lunch.

"What is this stuff?"

"Water with a hint of ambrosia," said Anakin calmly.

Kenny held out the bottle. "Ambrosia? As in the stuff the Greek gods drank?"

Anakin nodded, hands outstretched. "It's really just a potion. It refuels your magical stores. Used in excess, it causes euphoria and intoxication from the overflow of magical potential. For a mortal, it is poison. There! It's subtle, but it's there."

"What's there?"

Anakin stood up and rapped his staff on the ground. The stone beneath his feet collapsed in of itself, revealing the start of a slide. The cavern below held no light. Anakin gave the teens a look and stepped onto the slide. He fell down and out of sight. Matt ran forward, yelling.

"Fuck."

Kenny peered over the ledge into the darkness. "Now what?"

Matt plunged his fingers through his hair. "We follow?"

The sound of excited yips and chatter echoed down the hall. The devils were once again on the hunt. Kenny gulped. "Can't be worse than those things, right?"

Matt nodded and slipped hesitantly onto the slide. He slid slowly for a moment and reached out for Kenny, having second thoughts. Gravity took over and his momentum carried him down into the nothingness. He screamed, but the rushing air in his ears meant he could not hear his own voice. The slide was frictionless, and he continued to gain speed. His stomach did summersaults. Abruptly the slide gave way, sending him into a free fall. The rushing darkness turned icy and thick and wet. Matt realized his hand landed in a deep underground lake. His fall slowed to a stop. His lungs burned for air. He pushed down and kicked. His head broke the surface of the lake and he gasped in air and water.

"Matt!"

Matt choked and coughed, struggling to stay afloat. "Anakin!"

A bulb of yellow-white light burst into existence, blinding him. Someone splashed into the water near him. He rubbed his eyes, still half choking. He grew accustomed to the light and looked around. The lake was deep but narrow, no more than twenty feet in diameter. He spotted his uncle on the shore beneath the light source. Kenny erupted out of the water, spluttering.

"Kenny, you're fine. Everything's fine."

Kenny's wide eyes raced around the room. "What the hell sort of entrance is that?"

Together the teens swam over to the shore. Anakin helped them out of the icy water. He murmured a word, and their clothes were bone dry if a little bit toasty. Matt collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily.

"Clever design. The lake is laced with witchbane and a few other select herbs. It strips a person of their magic. Only a Power could enter that water and perform a spell until the residue was removed."

Kenny flicked his hand and a fire ball appeared in it. He threw it out over the lake. It spluttered out of existence a few feet out. "That's scary."

"Like I said, there are greater things at work. A Power built this place, one of the original Powers would be my guess."

"Original Powers?"

Anakin shook his head. Water still dripped from his hair. "It doesn't matter. Or maybe it does. Let's find out."

"What about the devils? And Mafdet?"

Anakin glanced up into the oppressive darkness. "The devils won't survive a plunge into that lake. They're not from this plan and only held together by magic. Mafdet has remained helpfully cautious in engaging us directly. I doubt she'll risk taking the slide. She will wait until we have to return."

Matt rubbed his hands together, still feeling the effects of the icy water. "How can you do magic?"

Anakin ignored the question and pointed his staff slightly forward. The ball of light drifted forward. They followed it deeper into the cavern. They walked for what felt like at least an hour without meeting any sort of wall or obstacle. The floor remained flat and smooth. It seemed to stretch on for forever. Eventually, the floor began to gain a slight incline, and it changed color from gray to gray-brown to brown yellow. Anakin stopped at the transition point between yellow-brown to a more golden yellow.

"Gold. The floor is pure gold. Let's risk a little more light."

Matt clucked his tongue. "Did you watch Lord of the Rings?"

Anakin smirked and held up his staff. The ball of light above them expanded from the size of the golf ball to that of a beach ball and then to one of a minibus. The expanse of the carven became even more apparent. Despite being illuminated by a miniature sun, no roof or walls were visible. The ground, however, gave away some of its secrets. The changes in color to the ground were not random or due to natural changes in the rock's mineral composition. They were walking on top of a massive painting.

Anakin's grip on his staff, tightened as he lowered it. He put more weight on it than he had since entering the clearing. The powering of the light was draining him.

"We need to see the picture from above," said Anakin softly.

Kenny raised both eyebrows. "I don't know about you, but I can't sprout wings."

Anakin frowned. "You're an elemental. Levitate."

Kenny laughed. "Levitate? Levitate! I've never done that. And after the hell we've just been through, I'm lucky to be able to conjure a spark."

Anakin sighed. "You've been drinking ambrosia."

Matt's eyes widened. "You knew!"

"I suspected. I had a feeling."

Kenny changed his focus to Matt. "I can't levitate."

"You can. It's just a matter of regulating the density of the air beneath you," whispered Anakin, sweat breaking out across his brow.

Matt nodded. "Come on, dude, you can do it."

Shaking his head, Kenny stepped away from both witches. "You're crazy. I can't do that. Air—air's never been my strongest element."

"You deflected an attack from an Ennead with air. It's the same concept."

Kenny brow furrowed deeply. "How'd you…"

"Magic has a memory to it. When you shattered the wards around that house, I was able to sense everything that happened to you in it."

Kenny's hand shot to his pocket.

Anakin nodded. "Including your conversation with Montu."

Kenny paled. "But—but…"

"It's ok, Kenny, It doesn't change who you are. You can choose who you are, who you will be. None of your friends will care about it either."

"What is he talking about?" asked Matt, curious.

Kenny shook his head and pulled his hand away from his pocket with his other hand. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Anakin's breathing increased in speed and labor. "I can't hold the light much longer."

"What if the picture doesn't make sense? I don't know what to look for."

"Try and remember everything you see. When we get back to the Compound we can figure out a way to let us see the memory. Right, Anakin?"

Anakin nodded but did not speak.

Kenny held out his hands. "Here goes nothing."

He lowered his arms, keeping his hands parallel with the ground. He focused on the air around him, picturing it pooling together. Slowly, excruciatingly slow he started to rise up. He wobbled slightly as he continued to climb, but he did not let it break his concentration. He rose high enough to be level with the floating light and looked down. Anakin and Matt were barely discernable against the ground. From this height, he could make out the gist of the picture. It was a family only the beings in the picture were not human. They had the scary glowing eyes of the Powers That Be. He did not recognize any of them, but he knew which Powers were depicted. These were the original Powers, the archangels.

In the center stood a cherub-faced lanky male with brilliant blue eyes, short blond hair, and a radiant smile. A darker figure dressed in black robes had a hand on the blond haired male's shoulder, almost in a calming or restraining gesture. The dark figure had pale skin and gray dangerous eyes. Off to the side stood to more males both decked in polished armor, one with flowing blond hair and the other black. They looked exactly how Kenny always pictured angels, strong, powerful, and awe-inspiring.

On the opposite site stood a brooding figure. He was as tall as the two armor-clad angels but lacked the musculature. Instead, he was beautiful; the most beautiful being Kenny had ever seen. He had golden wavy locks for hair and violet eyes. He had a sword strapped to his thin waist. There was a darkest around him even in the still picture. Kenny shivered and rubbed his arms.

Further apart from the group stood two women. They were clearly sisters. Both had the same dark, shiny, straight hair. The one closest to the rest of the other Powers had a coldness about her. Her eyes were brown but rimmed in icy blue. She held a dying lily in her outstretched hand. The other female was tan and brimming with sunshine. She was thin, almost too thin. Still, she looked like she could take on the world and win.

The light flickered, and Kenny lost his concentration. The solid air pocket he was standing on faltered, and he fell. He did not scream but had no way of stopping his inevitable doom. Even if the fall did not kill him, it was not going to be pleasant. However, rather than landing with broken bones, he found himself bouncing on the ground which took on the consistency of jelly. When he came to a stop he sat up quickly, the world spun around and made him sick.

"Stay still, Kenny," called Matt's echo.

He felt strong hands touch him and hold him down. He blinked, trying in vain to get the spinning to cease.

"…concussed at the very least…"

He stared up at the two swirling blobs he suspected were Matt and Anakin. Opening his mouth to speak, he felt his stomach protest and promptly snapped it shut. The pounding in his head was giving him a bad headache. There must be a way to stop the incessant spinning.

"Can't you just heal him?"

"Brain injury is…slowly."

The voices faded in and out. Even as he lay still, he could feel the energy leaving him. The adrenaline rush from the fall coupled with the hours of being chased was too much for him. He was loosing consciousness. Somehow, that felt like a bad thing. It was all he wanted to do, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his sluggish mind. He had to stay awake.

Something warm started flowing over him. For a moment he thought he had lost control of his bodily functions, but reason ruled that fact out. The warm feeling was spreading down from his head and not in his pants. The pounding diminished considerably. He opened his eyes to find the world still and a worried Matt inches away from his face.

"Jeez, dude, back it up a bit."

Matt laughed hysterically, collapsing on his haunches. "Thank God."

Kenny pulled himself into a sitting position and rubbed his head. "What happened?"

"You fell like thirty feet into nearly solid ground. Anakin was able to cast some sort of liquefying spell, but it hit the ground about the same time you did. Then you just bounced and bounced. You looked like a dead fish."

Kenny massaged his temples, trying to ease the lingering headache. "Where's Anakin?"

Matt pointed at a lump of clothes. "He started to heal you and collapsed. I think that lighting spell really did a number on him."

"Great. So now what?"

Matt shrugged. "No clue. We're all out of ambrosia water. I guess we wait until he's able to move."

Kenny pointed up at the small globe of light still hanging above them. "And that?"

"Reappeared about the same time Anakin tried to heal you. We might have triggered something. It's not Anakin's."

"Are you sure?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. I don't know how I'm sure, but I am. It's like there's something whispering in my ear."

"Magic?"

"Who knows…so? What is it?"

Kenny hugged his knees against his chest. "A picture of the Powers—all seven of them."

"Seven—seven! But there are only five original Powers: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, and Lucifer. There are other Powers obviously. There are the Fallen and—seven? Are you sure?" Matt sounded scared.

Kenny sighed. "I'm almost positive. I mean I can kind of figure out who each of the figures is, except for the two girls. It's weird—like it was a cross between a Roman fresco and a Renaissance painting. But this place was built millennia before Roman ever existed."

Anakin groaned nearby. Matt scuttled over to his uncle and helped him sit up. "So, how's the patient?"

Kenny did not try standing up, but he waved at Anakin. "Getting there."

"Good. Sorry for the slow reflexes. Age is catching up on me."

"Are you ok?" asked Matt quietly.

Anakin waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just lightheaded. Give me a moment, and I'll be right as rain."

"How are we getting out of here?"

Anakin summoned his staff and used it to stand up with some help from Matt. He stood, hunched over like an old man. Matt and Kenny exchanged worried looks. If Anakin was handicapped, they were is huge trouble. There was an angry and scary Ennead waiting for them somewhere in the temple above.

"Could he orb out?"

Anakin shook his head. "The place is warded strangely. It'd take me weeks to figure out a way to bring them down."

Matt stepped up to him. "We could levitate up to the slide."

Anakin turned around. "No. No. That'd be exhausting for Kenny. Even if he managed to get us up that high, that slide will be charmed against people climbing back up. There'll be a way out, somewhere here. A trap door, like the entrance, or a charmed transport stone."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because there aren't any bones down here. We can't be the first ones down here. The builders and artists, at least, would have had to have had a way to get out."

Kenny risked standing up, swayed a little, and walked over to them. "There was a flower in the painting or whatever we're calling it. One of its petals was a different color from the rest."

Anakin gestured for Kenny to lead the way. The teen felt turned around, but he set off in a direction. The changes in the floor coloring proved promising. After fifteen minutes of walking, they found a maroon colored section near a more rose-tinted rock. Anakin got onto his knees and gently brushed away the dust from the maroon stone. The stone was engraved in scratches, possibly writing.

"Anyone speak ancient entomata?" asked Matt, jokingly.

Anakin cocked an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact…" He started reading the inscription as he did the world around them flashed. They found themselves standing at the entrance of the temple.

"About time," purred a feminine voice.

Mafdet stalked out of a nearby alcove. She wielded a golden hooked staff in one hand. Two massive black and feathered wings spread out behind her. She wore a victorious smirk.

Anakin jumped into action, shoving both teens behind him and into the temple. The yipping gleeful sounds of devils on the hunt echoed out of the temple.

"Get down," yelled Anakin.

Matt and threw themselves to the ground and covered the backs of their heads. Anakin pointed a finger down the temple's corridor and unleashed a stream of pure white fire. The air around the flames ignited and exploded, deafening everyone. The fire struck the first hapless devil. It simple vanished from existence. The rest paused. The corridor began to collapse, trapping the devils inside.

Mafdet clapped her hands. "Impressive, but those are just my pets. You'll have a harder time trapping me."

She threw her staff at Anakin. It transformed midair into a spear with a razor sharp point. Anakin swept the spear aside with a flick of his staff and vanished. The teens hid behind a fallen piece of the temple. Anakin reappeared behind Mafdet and waved his hand viciously to one side. The telekinetic attack swept the Ennead off her feet and threw her head first into the stone alcove she first appeared out of. The resulting impact demolished the stone, collapsing the small monument on top of her.

Anakin gripped tightly onto his staff, eyes blazing. Something shifted in the rubble. It exploded, sending rocks and boulders flying in all directions, but mostly at Anakin. The witch flickered out and appeared on top of the marble wall surrounding the temple. He raised his hand above his head, and the air grew dense and heavy. The hairs on his arms and head stood up. Lighting struck the ground. Thunder boomed.

Mafdet crawled out of the resulting hole, steam and smoke rolling off her. One of her wings was a charred skeleton. She growled loudly and gestured up at Anakin. An invisible force struck the witch smashing into the ground. The assassin charged forward, conjuring twin liquid metal blades. She launched herself into the air and descended on the collapsed heap that was Anakin. Only a moment before her blade connected a second bolt of lightning struck her and sent her flying into the nearest tree trunk. It snapped, sending the massive tree plummeting to the ground.

Anakin rose from the ground, clothes ripped and bleeding from a dozen deep cuts. When he looked at where Matt and Kenny were hiding, they saw his eyes. They were not human. The swirling color illuminated Anakin's gaunt face. Even from this distance, Matt felt like a piece of his soul was burned alive. He quickly shifted his gaze to not meet his uncle's gaze.

Mafdet pounced out of the forest at incredible speed. Her swords flashed and danced around her. Anakin raised an arm with his hand perpendicular to it. He waited until Mafdet was almost upon him and crushed his hand into a fist. The deadly Ennead froze in mid air. She spun around slowly, eyes bulging. Abruptly her body gave in and collapsed in of itself. Blood and guts splattered onto the floor before burning up in violet flames. Anakin blinked once, his eyes faded back to their human color: one blue and one green.

Matt and Kenny risked glancing out from their hideout.

"Your uncle is fucking scary."

* * *

AN: So what did you think? Did I surprise any of you? I tried to include a little bit of humor to offset the serious tone of the chapter. I really hope you liked it!

Until next time!


	9. All I Think About Is You

AN: A little bit late, sorry. I hope it was worth the wait.

* * *

ALL I THINK ABOUT IS YOU

Chinatown, unlike the rest of the city, was still a bustling throng of people and sounds. It was impossible to not get bumped and knocked about on the street. Rather than try and avoid people, Eve made a beeline for her chosen destination. Bundled up in a thick winter coat lined with fake fox fur and wearing obscenely large sunglasses, she felt well disguised in the crowd of strangers. Two probes, a mortal invention, had passed overhead already; thankfully both had been simply transitioning from once sector of the city to another. Had they been in surveillance mode, her mission in the district would have come to an abrupt end.

She sidestepped a man dragging a screaming old woman. On the opposite pavement, a brute demon was harassing a fruit vendor, upending her small wooden stand. The tiny woman yelled at the demon in Chinese, throwing a pineapple at its head. She turned away before the fireball hit the woman. It was barely controlled chaos.

Chinatown was only patrolled occasionally by the traditional police force. Probes and unmanned drones would scan the section at random intervals. Unless the probe detected a person with significant power, alerts were ignored. None of the Ennead entered Chinatown, as far as she knew. Lucifer, too, left the area to its own devices. The result was a collection of lawlessness, making the streets almost too dangerous to walk on. The lack of law and order, however, meant it was the safest place for her to find out the truth.

She slipped into the corner market at the end of the street, ducking her head to avoid the surveillance camera. The shops proprietor eyed her suspiciously, but she flashed him the wad of green bills she had scrounged up earlier in the day. He left her alone. Casually she strolled down the aisles, picking up a carton to examine its contents and replacing it on the shelf. Finally, she reached the area of interest. An array of happily colored boxes stared back at her. She chose the one with the dullest box and pocketed it. Without preamble she headed for the register and checked out, leaving behind a few more bills than was necessary. The owner did not complain.

Back on the street, she darted over to the small café opposite the store. Lunchtime was nearly over, and the café was relatively empty. A sign hanging over the faded soda fountain stated a key was needed to access the bathroom. She walked up to the counter. A woman in a hairnet and a stern face approached her.

"Yes?"

"I need to use the bathroom."

The woman looked her up and down. "Bathroom for customers only."

Eve dug out some more money. "I'll take a coke and the keys."

Still unhappy, the woman reached down and slammed a key attached to a large wooden pole on the counter. "Soda costs extra."

Eve rolled her eyes and took the key. She hurried to the bathroom, unlocked the door, and quickly closed it behind her. She locked it and looked around the room. It was unkempt. Toilet paper littered the floor. Only half the mirror was still attached to the wall and was covered in scratches. Rust stains overtook the sink and the toilet alike. She pulled out the box and opened it up.

One plastic stick could change her entire world. She closed her eyes and muttered a prayer. Ten minutes later she sat on the toilet, staring at the two blue lines. Someone pounded on the door.

"Out! Out! I call police. Out!"

Eve blinked away the tears and conjured a fire ball. She placed the pregnancy test back in the box and dropped it in the tiny trash bin. She let the fire ball fall from her palm into the trash bin, incinerating its contents. She opened the door and shoved the key into the irate woman's chest. Without a word, she ran out of the restaurant, down the street, out of Chinatown. She kept running and running until she reached the end of a pier.

It was a foggy day. The view and the misty weather matched her mood perfectly. The ocean frothed and foamed beneath her feet as the tears started to fall. Years of training fell away as her emotions overwhelmed her. She sank to the ground, sobs shaking her whole body. People, young and old, gave her a wide berth. She was causing a scene. It was not wise to cause a scene. Some would call the police. She would be recognized. She could not explain this.

"Perhaps, young lady, you should stand up," said a very stern gravely voice.

Eve hiccoughed and looked up at the man towering over her through tears. "W—wh—what?"

The man remained standing; he barely even moved. "Stand up. You are gaining unwanted attention. Stand up and stop your sniveling."

Eve sniffed and rubbed her eyes. A bubble of mucus popped at the end of her nose. "L—le—leave m-mm-me…"

The man bent down and grabbed her shoulder in his powerful hand. He easily pulled her back onto her feet. "This is neither the time nor the place for an emotional breakdown, Indra Storm."

Eve froze; every muscled tensed. "H—ho—how…"

The man interrupted her, steering her through the small crowd of people. He wore a black cloak, revealing no distinguishing features. Even his hand on her shoulder was hidden beneath a fold of the heavy fabric. A black limousine pulled up in front of them, and the door popped open. The man unceremoniously shoved her inside. A light flashed. He climbed in after her. The car pulled away from the curve fast enough for the tires to squeal.

Eve balled her hands into fists but found them too heavy to move. She felt the man's eyes on her despite not being able to see them. They were alone in the back of the car. The windows were tinted so dark she could not make out the buildings they drove past. Another sob passed through her.

"I would have thought a deep cover Resistance member would be more in control of themselves. Alas, that is what we get for having to rely on children. I told Anakin and Adelrich we should have risked sending in Bianca. I supposed that is no longer an option. She is dead. At Lucifer's own hands if the rumors are to be believed."

Eve sniffed and sat up a bit straighter in her seat. "Wh—who are yo—you?"

The man's head moved beneath the cloak, but the cloak itself did not shift an inch. Eve knew he moved because of the soft sound of hair rubbing against cloth. Coming out of her shock, she noted his hands were in his lap, perfectly positioned to be hiding a weapon. The door was locked. The barrier between the back of the car and the driver was up.

The man grunted in disappointment. "Relax, Indra, I could have killed you back on the pier and saved myself the indignity of this car ride. I have no intention of killing you. You are too valuable, unfortunately. Tell me your thoughts on Lucifer's latest announcement."

"What? You mean that thing about being Emperor of Europe? It's public bullshit. Something to keep the mortals in line after the massacre at the Pan-European Parliament. He doesn't give a shit about them."

The man held up one hand to silence her tirade. "No. I know the reasoning behind his takeover of the European Union or whatever they decide to call themselves. No, my interest lays with his other announcement. He's declaration of an heir, an apprentice."

Eve gulped. "You're with the Resistance?"

"No. I've consulted with them, but I am not a member. My agenda extends beyond the fickle fates of mortals and witches."

"But you care about Zach?"

The man became very still, too still. "Zachary Halliwell is a part of my plans."

Eve frowned. "His just a kid."

"So are you, and yet you've been entrusted with a very important task. Tell me, have you failed at that task? Was our faith in you misplaced? Have you been so distracted by having a warm body next to you at night?"

Eve hissed," Shut the fuck up."

The man chuckled heartily. "Struck a nerve, have I? Answer my question, Indra Storm."

"Stop calling me that. My name is Eve—just Eve."

The car turned sharply. A scratchy voice came over the intercom. "Hostiles in pursuit."

The man sighed. "Take the Bridge out of the city. My time with our companion needs to be extensive it appears."

"Yes, sir."

Eve almost jumped to her feet. "The Bridge is destroyed."

"The Bridge was destroyed. At a different time, it was the pride of the city," said the man cryptically. "Our route is not important to you. Our driver has a heavenly touch. I am still waiting for an answer. I am not accustomed to asking more than thrice."

Eve shivered, feeling for the first time afraid of the man. "Lucifer called Zach his apprentice. So what? If you've been in contact with the Resistance then you know he's been held on the island for months—almost a year."

"A year with Lucifer can change a man. How has the young witch changed?"

Eve's eyes shifted to the ground. "He's not—he's the same. It infuriates the Dark Prince."

"The Son of Light was always very impatient. His time in the Cage taught him endurance. Still if the witch is still openly defying him, his patience will wear thin. Has it?" The man said thoughtfully.

Eve shook her head. "No, they—the is a—a—respect between the two of them."

The man raised his hand and lowered his hood. His face was scarred on one side. The scars looked recently. He had lost one eye, but the other constantly changed color, returning often to a steel lifeless grey. His greying hair was thinning and unkempt. The unscarred skin looked sickly and waxy. Still he projected an air of power Eve only felt in the presence of Lucifer.

"Uriel!" she gasped.

The Power bowed his head in acknowledgement. "You have heard of me. Then you understand my concern. I know my brother. He would not declare Zachary as his if it were not true. So what has changed since I spoke to the child less than a month ago?"

Eve shrugged. "Nothing. Nothing's changed, I swear."

Uriel gave her an unimpressed glared. "I found you, a highly regarded Phoenix assassin, crying in public. Something has changed."

"That—th…" Eve choked off.

"The child—it is his?"

Even clutched at her stomach protectively. "How?"

Uriel's eye blazed silver. "I am THE Angel of Death. I can feel the presence of souls. Demons don't have souls; Powers That Be don't have them, either. Yet, there are two in this car."

Eve closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. "He—I only just…"

"I was of the understanding that pregnancies within a Phoenix coven must be sanctioned. Was this child given the blessing of your uncle?"

Eve shook her head sadly.

Uriel slammed his feet on the floor of the car. "Damn you, child! Falling prey for one of the oldest tricks my brother plays."

Eve wrapped her arms around herself.

"This is why he declared his little victory. The boy—he is blind to his greatest weakness. His love for family will be his death. It will be our doom." Uriel paused. His nose flared as he breathed. "The child must die. Now. Before Zachary becomes aware of its existence. We might be able to undo some of the damage. His connection to you will have to be broken."

"What! NO!" yelled Eve.

Uriel glared at her, and she wilted in her seat. "When you were assigned this mission, you were given explicit instructions. Do not seduce the witch."

Eve jumped to her feet, hitting her head on the roof of the car. "FUCK YOU! I didn't seduce him. It—it was—it—he—I…"

"Sit down, silly girl. The damage has been done. We must now fix what we can. Zachary Halliwell cannot turn dark. His father's turning would have been disastrous enough, but at least, the world could survive it. Zachary is not the Twice Blessed. He does not have the raw magical power of his uncle, but he is the result of a union of two branches of magic that have never been blended. Should he turn, it will not mean the birth of another Source. It will mean the creation of something so dark, so evil it will severe the ties this universe has to my home plane. Do you understand?"

Even shook her head. "No. What are you…"

"I hate mortals. They always fail to see the bigger picture. You were gifted everything in this universe. You did not deserve it, but it was yours. You just had to leave one small tree alone. Greed and pride. Believing you could ever be something more than what you are. Fickle and foolish little ants."

The voice over the intercom stopped Uriel from continuing. "The Bridge is coming up."

"You know what to do," said Uriel sharply.

He turned back to staring at Eve. "The one good thing of this little fiasco is it proves your cover remains intact. My brother would not have used you to entice Zachary to the dark if he knew you were with the Resistance. Adelrich chose well. The witch hunt was a terrible loss. Keep the child if you wish, but Zachary cannot know it is his. Not yet…"

* * *

Zach sat on the uncomfortable chair staring at the sterile workbench. A dozen colored potions sat on the metal surface. A thirteenth potion boiled away over an open flame. Each potion was an experiment around a single theme, a forbidden theme. His dreams had gotten worse. That was when he slept at all. His guilt was eating him alive. The potions were a step in a direction for correcting the guilt.

He had chosen to work in Set's lab; because of the second required item in his plan. The summoning circle designed and built the shadowy Ennead was exactly the sort of ritual device he required. Warlocks and demons and other magical beings had attempted what he wanted to do. None of them succeeded. Most died in their endeavor. He had to try. Even if he failed, at least, he could say he tried.

He had spent two months secretly researching the most obscure branches of magic. Lucifer would have been overjoyed to hear of his interest, but Zach did not want to give the Power the satisfaction. He was not doing this because Lucifer suggested it. No, he was doing this because there was no other option, no other choice.

The recording of the closest successful ritual gave him the idea to use a physical circle. Most other examples relied on circles of candles or other objects. The potions were a combination of potions described in other accounts. Some required the most mundane of ingredients, yet other ingredients were so dark he shuddered at the thought of them. He was no expert on magic or potions; he had never gone to Magic School. Each decision was made as much on instinct as on sound facts. He wished Matt were here. His cousin would have been able to solve his dilemma in a heartbeat.

"My lab is not open to the public," warned Set walking through the door.

Zach cocked an eyebrow and tapped his finger on the workbench. "Tell that to your boss."

Set deposited the armload of scrolls he carried onto the other empty tabletop. "He is still off figuring out what the hell happened to Mafdet."

Zach swallowed. He suspected his family was involved. His truce with Lucifer would not save them from the reprisal if it was them. "I thought the reports concluded she tripped one of the traps in the temple."

Set smiled, revealing white and sharp canine teeth. "One can only hope."

"It was probably one of your idiotic Devils. Maybe, you should be spending less time taunting me and more time figuring out explain your way out of that."

Set's eyes turned violet. "An idle threat."

Zach shrugged. "I have need of your equipment. Some of the potions I'm working on require very exact ingredient amounts. I promise Lucifer will be very pleased you let me burrow your stuff."

"Where is your girlfriend?"

Again Zach shrugged, hiding his concern behind a mask of disinterest. "She has the day off. Couldn't you tell by the fact of the two unconscious Phoenix warriors outside your door? Aren't you supposed to be the smart one out of the group?"

Set bared his teeth. "Careful, witch, you may be Lucifer's chosen one, but your insolence will get you in trouble one of these days."

"I've lasted a year so far. I think I'm safe."

Set picked up one of the scrolls. "Keep the explosions to a minimum."

Zach followed the jackal-headed Ennead's progress into the small office connected to the lab. The door opened and closed of its own accord. The office's wards were based on the wards around Zach's bedroom. No one could enter the room without Set's explicit invitation. Zach had tried a few times. Youthful curiosity and lack of respect drove his actions. His hand had stung for weeks afterward.

"Your potion is boiling over," said Peter, walking through the solid wall.

Zach groaned and extinguished the flames with a twitch of his finger. He gathered up the last couple of ingredients, placing them into a mortar and using an ivory pestle grounded them into a fine powder. He ignored Peter's attempts at garnering his attention. The last ingredient required a knife. He summoned a dagger and pricked his fingertip. He added four drops of blood to the powder and sucked on his finger while he turned the powder into sludge.

"Ignoring me, won't help, Zach. I've got all the time in the world."

Zach dug out a bronze spoon from the nearest drawer. Carefully he used it to transfer the pink-colored sludge into the still steaming potion. It sparked and the surface boiled as he stirred it. The color slowly changed from a sickly yellow to a dark, almost black, crimson. Both he and Peter gasped.

"Fucking hell," whispered Peter, taking a step closer to the lab bench.

Zach peered into the glass beaker. He stirred the contents slowly in disbelief. His idea had worked. The potion was ready. It had needed a stabilizing agent. It had required his blood. Lucifer had not been lying to him.

Peter slapped his hand on Zach's shoulder. "Well done, dude."

"We're not finished. I still need to design a functional ritual, and I've got no fucking clue where to start," mumbled Zach.

The smell of strong black tea let Zach he was not alone. He turned around in his seat, making himself as big as possible. Lucifer stood in the doorway of the lab, holding a large black mug in his right hand. His smug smile told Zach there was no point in hiding the potion. He was caught.

"A step forward is something to be celebrated, Zach," he said, sipping on his tea.

Zach slumped a little in his chair. "You weren't supposed to be back for another week."

Lucifer shrugged, still leaning against the doorframe. "There was no point in staying, and I did so miss your prickly attitude."

"Mafdet?" asked Zach stiffly.

"Killed—vanquished by her own arrogance," said Lucifer dismissively. "An error to be rectified should I choose to create more like her. My thoughts on the matter remain lukewarm. I find there may be other options open to me. Now, tell me about the potion you are trying so desperately to keep hidden."

Zach sighed and sulked. "It's nothing."

"From the remnants of ingredients I can ascertain the potion is not 'nothing.' Have we been dabbling in the art of necromancy?"

"It's nothing. I'm not going to do anything with it. I—I was—just…"

Lucifer placed his mug down on a table that had not been there a moment before. He stepped fully into the lab. His boots were covered in ash. The Power took in the entirety of the lab and spotted the pile of scrolls.

"Set has returned?"

Zach jerked his head in the direction of the plain office door. "Inside."

Lucifer waved his hand and a dark blue glow surrounded the door. "I prefer for this conversation to remain between us. The potion is but a small part in a much larger amalgamation of magics both ancient and new. Necromancy is a dangerous art. You should not be practicing it alone."

"Aw, are you worried about me?" mocked Zach

Lucifer crossed his arms; eyebrows raised. "My concern for your well-being has very little to do with this conversation. I prefer to keep this island intact. The last person to try what you are attempting left Chernobyl an uninhabitable wasteland. Not even a nuclear accident causes that much damage."

Zach stared at Lucifer steadily, hiding his shock at the notion. "This was your idea."

"No. I wanted you to study necromancy. I needed you to broaden your outlook on magic, on power. To use it, that was never my intention. Whatever hidden gifts my brother possesses, he has a very dangerous grip on the threshold between life and death."

"You're jealous of him."

Lucifer sat down. "He was always Father's favorite. Have you figured out the ritual? Breaking through the barrier between planes is a delicate process."

Zach frowned. "Summoning spirits is a fairly basic witch power."

"You are not summoning spirits. Spirits are impressions and reflections of a person. You are trying to pull a departed soul back to this plane of existence. You must have read through Set's writings on the subject of summoning Devils. Necromancy is not a whole lot different. It will require similar elements." Lucifer continued.

"So souls—they're a real thing?"

Lucifer chuckled. "I thought you were a Christian. Is the existence of the soul not a fundamental principle of that religion?"

Zach shrugged and mumbled, "I've been questioning my faith."

"You should go to church then. Faith is an important part of who a person is. You do not want to lose it on a whim."

Zach laughed. It sounded hollow even to his ears. "Aren't you meant to talk me out of believing in God?"

Lucifer shrugged. "His existence is something I believe in too. I just find His plan a bit self-centered and child-like. My problem is not with belief in Him, it is in the blind obedience He expects."

Lucifer sat up a bit and held out his hand, palm up. A book popped into existence. He placed it on the workbench by Zach's elbow. "Tonight is a new moon."

Zach picked up the book but did not open it. He kept his eyes on Lucifer. "Why are you doing this?"

"I like putting my brothers in their place," said Lucifer, standing up. "I would not have any distraction in the room when you attempt the ritual."

Lucifer swept out of the room, leaving Zach to his thoughts.

Hours later Zach sat in the center of the summoning circle in nothing but his underwear. Most rituals were performed in the nude. Being naked would be a distraction, and Lucifer said not to have distractions. Around him were symbols for each of the five major elements. Between each symbol was an unlit candle. He used his power of projection to light each in a counterclockwise order. The flames on the candles rose high into the air.

He clutched tightly to the potion he brewed. It felt like it was pounding in rhythm of his heart. The metal rings liquefied. Sparks of electricity jumped around the circle. His blond slightly damp hair stood on end. His body rose, floating above the stone. The throbbing of the potion intensified. He had to wait until moonrise, which coincided with the witching hour.

He could feel the power circulating around him. Nothing compared to the intensity of it. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, stilling his mind. His magic responded, reaching out to the wild energies trapped in the summoning circle. He felt the change in the world. The time had come.

His eyes snapped open and locked onto the triumphant smile on Lucifer's face. He did not care at that moment what it meant. He opened the potion vial and poured the contents onto the stone altar. The crimson liquid thickened and clumped together. The blob took shape slowly, according to the image held in Zach's mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Peter watching him.

The flames atop the candles rotated and swirled. They engulfed the nearly humanoid crimson figure below him. The flames burned white, blinding him. He shut his eyes, and the magic around him exploded. He fell through the air and hit his head hard against the ground. Something soft, warm, and pliable touched his leg.

His eyes snapped open. Smoke surrounded him. He coughed and rolled onto his side. Someone else coughed nearby.

"Lucifer?" Zach called out.

Again the person coughed. It was too close to be Lucifer. Lucifer had been outside the summoning circle. Zach gathered his arms and legs beneath him and pushed himself up, unsteadily. He waved his hand, trying to clear the smoke. It stubbornly lingered, obscuring his view of the lab. He shuffled forward and nearly tripped over something.

"Oof," complained the something or someone.

Zach bent down quickly. "No—oh my God!"

Very real, very familiar brown eyes met his wide blue orbs. The boy coughed as he sat up. Hoarsely he said, "Zach?"

Zach threw his arms around the boy. "Mike! Oh my God, it worked. Michael, it worked!"

In the corner of the lab stood Lucifer still smiling. Next to him Isis wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

"His eyes," she whispered.

Lucifer turned her around and escorted her noiselessly out of the lab. "Weren't they glorious!"

* * *

The ward announced the arrival of someone unwanted. Anakin, despite his physical handicaps, rushed out of the house to intercept the visitor before he reached anyone else. He spotted Uriel, coming up the winding road guarded by two men dressed in armor that went out of style in the Middle Ages. Anakin brought his staff to bear, and a light flashed out of the top of it. Matt was correct when he suggested he had been watching too much Lord of the Rings. The two armored guards froze in place and toppled over.

"You're not supposed to be here," said Anakin calmly.

Uriel flicked his head back, throwing off his hood. "And you're supposed to be following the lead in the Outback."

Anakin let his eyes flash with a rainbow of color. "You're not talking them out of it, Uriel. It's been too long."

"I agree," breathed Uriel, defeated.

Anakin stumbled over his words. "What?"

Uriel closed his eye slowly and appeared to age a hundred years in the silence between heartbeats. "I've just learned just how great the hold Lucifer has over the child."

"Zach. His name is Zach," said Anakin fiercely.

"Forgive me, yes, Zach. He is in far more danger than I ever imagined. My lack of familiarity with the nature of teenage romance may be our undoing."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "What are you going on about?"

"Zachary is to become a father."

Anakin grasped firmly on his staff to keep from falling. "You've got to be joking."

Uriel sadly shook his head. "It would appear he and the Phoenix have had something of a romantic entanglement, designed in part by my brother. He laced the Phoenix's drinks with a dark fertility potion akin to the one used on your aunt by the Source. It is only by chance he chose to use our spy as the mother-to-be. The fact that she is on our side will delay my brother's plans, but the fertility potion is potent. The child will be born steeped in evil. His father's sense of family loyalty will keep Zach firmly at Lucifer's side."

Anakin stared at the scarred Power. "But—but he's only a kid…"

"Seems I am not the only one to underestimate teenage hormones."

"No, no—you're—this is terrible. I—this can't be happening."

Uriel waved his hand, and the two guards unfroze. "You have plans to free Zach?"

Anakin nodded silently still processing the information.

"The sooner you act, the better. I cannot be a part of the battle, but I will lend my assistance the best I can. You will, too, be limited in direct actions against Lucifer."

"I'm not sending them into that hellhole without me," declared Anakin, itching for Uriel to argue.

Uriel arched one eyebrow. "I did not say you had to. I am simply reminding you of your limitations."

Anakin breathed out heavily. He sagged beneath the weight of the revelation. "Does he know?"

"I do not know. I told the mother—Eve—the dangers of letting him know. She is far too impulsive, and her loyalty to the greater good is questionable. She will act in the interest of herself and her perceived family."

"Eve doesn't deserve that," admonished Anakin weakly.

The two guards approached, weapons drawn. Uriel sighed. "Take care, Anakin. You must see the situation for what it is, not what you wish it could be. Zachary is a danger to us all."

"And I told you, you try anything and I'll rip you limb from limb," growled Anakin.

Uriel stayed the actions of his bodyguards with a sharp gesture. "I somehow think you might be able to keep that promise. Good luck, my friend."

Uriel vanished, taking with him the two angels for that was what the guards were, angels to stand against the devils summoned by Lucifer and his cronies.

Anakin remained where he stood, lost in memories. Zach was still a baby to him. Those were the only real memories he had of his oldest nephew. Sure he had looked in on the family from time to time. He knew Zach had grown up into this amazing young man, but he could close his eyes and still fell the soft breath of a sleeping Zach against his neck as he carried him in from the car. He wondered, not the first time since returning, if he had Lucien would have had children if they had survived. He always wanted children, but the topic never came up. They were so young when they died.

He sensed the approach of his mother long before she even reach the front door of the house. She must have spotted him from her bedroom window. He did not move from his spot. This was a conversation they needed to have away from prying ears. It was a conversation he would have to have with his brother and his wife as well, but he felt slightly better talking to his mother first. She, at least, did not doubt his intentions.

Piper reached the top of the rise slightly out of breath. She took in the scenery. The snow had melted a bit. While it was still chilly, the smell of spring was in the air even if it was still some time off. The sunrise set off the sky in tones of pinks and blues. It really was beautiful. They rarely stopped to admire the world around them.

"What are you doing up, sweetie?" She inquired softly.

Anakin shuffled his feet to face her. "Sunrise was always Lucien's favorite part of the day even though he hated waking up."

Piper's brow furrowed. Anakin rarely talked about Lucien. She felt a lump grow in her throat. "What's wrong? Is it—is it Z—Zach?"

Anakin smiled grimly. "He's not dead or anything. Lucifer needs him alive; you know that."

"I just—with the announcement a few days ago—I know what the 'Greater Good' means." She spoke in barely more than a whisper.

Anakin's eyes narrowed. "I'd—that's not ever going to be an option. Uriel knows that. He wouldn't try anything."

Piper felt the crushing weight on her chest lighten slightly. "But he's in trouble."

Anakin nodded. "Lucifer made a play we didn't see coming. He's used Zach's greatest characteristics against us, or at least, he's trying to."

"What do you mean?" asked Piper, lost.

Anakin grimaced as pain shot down his leg. He stumbled, catching himself barely. His mother immediately jumped into action and caught him as well. He smiled sheepishly. "Let's sit down."

Two chairs grew out of the ground. Anakin took a seat, easing himself into the chair. He stretched out his right leg and massaged his thigh. He should have healed by now. The trip to Africa had delayed things even if it was necessary. Now, it put Zach's life in jeopardy. For whatever he said to the contrary, he knew when it came down to the choice between the world and Zach, Uriel would choose the world even if made an enemy out of every single Halliwell.

"You push yourself too much," said Piper in her mothering tone.

Anakin chuckled. "I don't have much choice, Mom. We're losing the war. We could lose Zach. I've got to push myself. I won't be the reason we don't save him. Whatever my siblings think, I always put this family first, always."

Piper leaned forward and stretched out her weathered hand. He took it readily, and she gave his hand a squeeze. "They know you love them, Annie. They know you're doing everything you can to save Zach. But you need to lean on them. You can't do all this by yourself. You can't make all these big decisions about us without consulting us. It can't be like last time. We can't lose you again, either."

"I'm pretty sure Wy and Sarah would trade my life for Zach's in a heartbeat, and I don't blame them. I really don't. He's their son, their little boy. They've got to put him above everyone and everything else. It's only right." Anakin let a small smile grace his face. "And I'd lay down my life in that same heartbeat if it meant saving Zach."

Piper's breath caught in her throat. "Baby, don't talk like that."

"I'm not planning any self-sacrificing act at the moment, Mom. It wouldn't help anything. Still, we need to rescue Zach and soon. Before Lucifer has his claws so deep in him it won't matter anymore." Anakin spoke as if he was thinking out loud.

"What's changed? Why was Uriel here?" She pressed.

Anakin nibbled on his nail, finding the best way to break the news. "You're going to be a great-grandmother."

Piper gaped at him. "Huh?"

"Lucifer assigned Zach a bodyguard, a Phoenix at the beginning of last summer. The Phoenix was around his age; it made sense. It kept Zach isolated but not alone. She would become his confidant. She did become his confidant. What we failed to see was the two falling for each other. We failed to anticipate just how sinister Lucifer could be. A physical relationship between the two was not unwarranted. It was not ideal, but the ties between a boyfriend and girlfriend can be severed, and the companionship kept Zach sane."

Piper held up her hands. "Wait, wait. How do you know all this?"

"Partly from the Phoenix. She's a spy—a member of the Resistance. The rest we know from Uriel. He has been in contact with Zach. Zach is the one person Lucifer would lower his defenses around…"

Piper's eyes widened. "That's why you didn't want to rescue him before! He was an information source."

Anakin hung his head, not proud of his decision. "I knew he was not in any physical danger."

"That doesn't matter, Anakin! He is just a kid. He's not a…"

Anakin shook his head, and his lips trembled. "I know. I know, Mom. Believe me, I know. I've hated myself every day because of this. I—I…"

Piper bit her tongue, seeing how much pain her son was in already. She was angry, but it could wait. "So he and this Phoenix…"

"Eve, her name is Eve," mumbled Anakin.

"Zach and Eve are—are pregnant?"

Anakin looked at her with teary eyes and nodded.

"Oh my God…"

"That's not the worst part. Phoenixes take a potion to prevent pregnancy. It's foolproof."

Piper scoffed. "Clearly not."

"Lucifer overcame the potion. He fed her a fertility potion—the same potion the Seer and the Source used on Phoebe."

Piper slapped her hand over her mouth. "No. No!"

Anakin sadly nodded his head again. "The child is evil. He or she will be too strong an influence on Zach."

Piper shook her head violently. "No. No great-grandchild of mine is evil. We can find a way to negate the potion. There must be a way. We just need to get them away from Lucifer. We need to bring them home."

Anakin laughed wetly. "That's the plan."

Piper squeezed his hand again. "You need to tell Wyatt and Sarah."

"I know."

"I'll go get them. They should hear it somewhere they can process it without interruption."

Anakin kneaded his thigh. The muscle was still in a painful spasm. He could not stand up. Piper stood up.

"Sweetie, after you tell them—we need to go back to the city. We're getting them back today." Piper walked away briskly back to the house that had become a second home.

* * *

Wyatt looked out across the foggy Bay. In the distance surrounded by a swirling tower of dark clouds was Alcatraz Island. Somewhere on that island were his son and his unborn grandson. He shook his head; the idea still felt wrong. He was too young to be a grandfather. His son was far too young to be a father. He was still just a baby. He felt Sarah walk up next to him. He automatically wrapped a protective arm around her and pulled her close. She leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder.

The wind picked up, throwing cold salt water up at them from the choppy water below. The clouds above them kept threatening to rain. Thunder clapped in the distance. Wyatt watched a seagull struggle to find a perch flying against the wind. They could not have chosen a drearier day to return to the city.

The weather had one advantage. No one questioned why they were so bundled up. Everyone covered himself or herself as best they could in thick rain jackets. They appeared to just be a part of the crowd. The wind also meant the witch hunting probes and drones were grounded. That only left the many patrols of demons and witch hunters to avoid. Somehow his brother had managed to do exactly that. Every time a group would start approaching them Anakin stared at them eerily and they walked away.

"We're going to save him—them," whispered Sarah, kissing his cheek.

Wyatt was not as confident in their success. He had been on the island before. He knew what awaited them. He also saw what Lucifer managed to do to his brother without trying. This time, he doubted Lucifer would be so kind. Nevertheless, he nodded his head firmly and hugged his wife tighter.

Their group had split up to find a vessel to the island, a difficult task. Chris and Piper were asking around the working fishing docks about a boat. Prue and Anakin had opted to try to find if any of the Bay tour ships were operating. The Bay was pretty much void of any ships or boats. Sarah and he were meant to be covertly scouting the small collection of private yachts tied up in the small harbor. They were too distracted by the nearness of their son.

"No luck," called Prue, approaching them downwind. "Everyone is grounded. The storm is expected to be a bad one."

Wyatt frowned; Prue was alone.

"Where's Anakin?" asked Sarah when Prue was closer.

Prue surreptitiously pointed down the short pier. There was a group of armed police converging on a single man in a dark blue puffy jacket. Unlike all the others they had met, this group appeared impervious to whatever spell Anakin cast on them. Wyatt tensed.

"He said to let things play out. We mustn't interfere," hissed Prue.

Wyatt watched the first man get within grabbing distance of his brother. The man disintegrated. One second he was a man waving a baton, and the next atoms. Anakin had not moved a muscle. The rest rushed him. Two pulled out guns. Another unleashed a barrage of fire balls. Yet another charged forward with a sword in hand. Not a single one of them came close to injuring the blond Halliwell. They all met the same fate as the first. Wyatt shuddered. Some of those men had been mortals, and Anakin had killed them.

"It's a good thing he's on our side," muttered Prue.

Wyatt silently agreed, feeling a trickle of fear flow down his spine. Anakin hobbled over to them. He could not use a cane or a staff, as it would attract too much attention.

"It would appear our presence has not gone unnoticed. They must have drones circling higher up."

"What did you do to them?" asked Prue, almost in awe.

Anakin shrugged. "Nothing. That was Uriel's handiwork. He knows I don't like hurting mortals, even if they are trained witch hunters."

"You've done it before," said Wyatt, remembering the time in the Manor.

Anakin nodded. "Yes, doesn't mean I like it. We may need to steal a boat."

"Won't it look funny with just one boat out on the water. Everyone is grounded," said Sarah.

Anakin agreed. "Unfortunately, I can't penetrate the wards from this distance. We need to be closer. Come on, let's find Chris and Mom."

Chris and Piper were only a block away, walking toward them. They had no luck obtaining a boat either. Stealing was an option, but none of them wanted to attract any additional attention. The deaths of the patrolmen earlier meant they could not stay in the area or risk running into more. They hunkered down in a little café, sitting in a corner away from the rest of the occupants.

"Couldn't we conjure a boat?" asked Wyatt softly, hiding his mouth behind a plastic coffee cup.

Chris let his academic side take over. "Magic and water don't mix. We could conjure a boat, but it'd take a lot of effort. Then there's the problem of how it'll interfere with the wards. It's…"

Wyatt waved him into silence. "Ok, ok, I get it, professor. Then what are we going to do?"

"How close do you have to be to the island?" asked Sarah, eyeing a nearby patron suspiciously. The young straggly woman ignored her.

Anakin bit is lip, thinking. "To do it quietly? The closer, the better. Lucifer's beefed up the wards since we broke in last time."

"Could we not ask—uh—Eve? Yeah, Eve for help?" whispered Piper.

"She's not going to be able to help us. The wards would recognize the instant she transported us inside of them. I need to short-circuit them. It's the only way," replied Anakin.

Sarah's eyes shifted to his face. "Eve—you know her?"

Anakin nodded. "I've read her file, and I've met with her twice to get updates from inside the island."

"Is—is she nice?"

Anakin resisted the urge to frown. "She's a Phoenix."

Chris grimaced. "That's…"

"Shut it, Chris," hissed Wyatt, sensing the turmoil his wife was going through. "You loved Bianca."

"Mention that in front of Serena," said Chris threateningly, breaking the tension. Prue and Anakin chuckled.

Anakin swirled the dredges of tea leaves in his cup. "We could try the Manor."

"What?" exclaimed his mother and sister.

"It's the seat of the nexus in this area of the world. I might be able to channel my power into the wards around the island through the ley line connecting the nexus to it," explained Anakin, giving them both a warning look.

All eyes turned to Chris. The brown-haired witch shrugged. "Could work. I'm not the expert here."

They turned back to Anakin. He gulped. "It's just a thought, and there's no way the Manor isn't heavily defended."

"Could Uriel help?"

Anakin shook his head. "His actions have to be—remote…He can't take a direct stand against any of his brethren."

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "But the rest of them can fuck around with mortals all they like? This is his war as much as it is ours."

"I don't understand it any more than you do. It's written into the foundation and structure of the Grand Design," said Anakin, tired. "We should scout out the Manor. The longer we're in the city, the more likely Lucifer is to sense my presence."

Piper indicated the conversation was over with a small change in body posture. All her children recognized it immediately and kept silent. Sarah took her cue from her husband. They filed out of the café in pairs. Anakin and Chris bought a second round of coffee and pulled out laptops. They were two ordinary businessmen having a meeting outside the office. The others caught a cab to the corner of the Prescott Street. Chris followed ten minutes later. Leaving, Anakin alone in the middle of the city. The clearing out of the Manor would have to be done by the rest.

He sensed the all clear signal and slipped down a garbage-filled alley. He closed his eyes and focused on making himself as small as possible. When it felt like his power was going to explode he pictured himself standing over the nexus. Reality collapsed and folded in on itself. For the briefest moment or was it an eternity, nothing existed not even time. Suddenly, he was thrown across a cement floor. He coughed and groaned, rolling onto his back. Hanging precariously above him was a worn punching bag. He grinned brightly.

"Anakin?" called his mother; her voice filled with worry.

"Down in the basement," choked out Anakin, still catching his breath.

Piper hurried down the stairs and pulled him to his feet, brushing the punching bad aside with almost practiced ease. He did not remember his mother ever using the object. "Did something go wrong?"

Anakin brushed the dirt and grime off his clothes the best he could. Nothing was broken. "No, I just didn't want to risk transporting myself near any of you in case it went wrong. It's not my best ability."

Wyatt, Chris, and Prue joined them; all with various levels of concern hidden in their expressions. Sarah remained on the stairs. She had been told about the nexus and the demon that lived inside of it. It had been destroyed by the sisters decades ago, but a nexus was never truly destroyed. It stood to reason the shadow had returned with the nexus. She did not want to risk being possessed by it.

"Ready?" asked Wyatt.

Piper stared at Anakin. He offered her a reassuring smile and nodded. "Mom, be ready with the banishment spell."

The four siblings joined hands. Anakin felt the nexus respond to their intentions almost immediately. The cement between them cracked and splintered open, shaking the whole house. Sarah clutched tightly onto the handrails. A darkness swirled out of the decent sized hole. It approached Wyatt but bounced off an invisible barrier.

"It's not your day, shadow. Be gone," said Anakin loudly.

The darkness's laughter echoed around them. It charged at Prue but was rebuffed. It let out an unearthly screech. Prue tried to move her hands to her ears.

"No," warned Chris, "don't break the circle."

The shadow expanded abruptly, like an inky explosion. The siblings were thrown backward, but they managed to hold onto each other. Anakin's eyes blazed pure white, burning a divot in the explosion. The shadow recoiled, turning into a miniature tornado of black blurry and puffy particles. Something akin to a face formed in the densest region of the whirlwind.

"The nexus is mine."

Anakin gave the shadow a stern glare, and it screamed. "Go back to the darkness. My fight is not with you being of power."

The swirling slowed. "It will be your doom, Twice Born. Your quest, it will end in ruin."

Prue's hand gripped his tighter. Anakin squeezed it back. "We have need of this nexus."

The shadow spun to face Wyatt. "The product of your loins has fallen too far. He has summoned a monster, but he is the real monster. An abomination, a creature with no true self…"

"Don't listen to it, Wyatt," yelled Anakin. "It's looking for a shatter point."

The shadow coalesced into a flattened orb. "The Master of Death means for you to die."

"I know," said Anakin softly but firmly. "Now, go!"

Light poured out of Anakin, blinding everyone. The light washed over the shadow, burning it. The light dimmed, leaving Anakin alone standing. He breathed heavily. After checking on his family, Anakin bent over the hole in the basement floor. He reached down, and his fingers brushed against something with the consistency of almost set jelly. The moment his fingers made contact, he lost all connection with his body. It felt like he was everywhere at once. He could hear a billion voices. He could feel magic being used across the world. He gasped and pulled back. The tips of his fingers were blackened.

"What happened," asked Wyatt groggily.

"Every ok?" called Chris a bit more coherently.

Sarah pulled herself into a sitting position on the stairs. "A creature without a true self…"

Anakin blinked and stared up at her. "It's not true, Sarah. The shadow was saying anything to make us lose our connection."

"Then why banish it? You needed it. You can't tap into the nexus directly. No mortal can," said Sarah, almost hysterically.

Wyatt frowned. "What…"

Anakin stood up, helping his mother to her feet. "It doesn't matter," he said with a forced finality. "As for not being able to use the nexus…"

"I believe I can help on that account," said Uriel, appearing in a free corner of the basement along with his two bodyguards.

Anakin stepped aside. One of the faceless bodyguards stepped forward and right into the hole. Its body transformed into an indescribable creature of beautiful and fear. It had six wings and three heads. Its four arms were transparent and surrounded by rings of colorless fire. Its whole body began to vibrate. It opened its mouth in a silent scream and exploded.

Uriel smiled in satisfaction. "It is done. You should find your way through the wards with ease." He vanished along with his remaining bodyguard.

"What the hell was that?" asked Wyatt.

Both Anakin and Chris answered. "A seraph."

Wyatt's frown only increased.

"Does it matter right now?" interrupted Piper.

Anakin offered a silent hand to Chris. Chris took it as Prue linked hands with him. Wyatt and Sarah joined the group. "Right, we've got no idea what we're walking into. We've no way of knowing if Lucifer is there or not. Don't get separated. Understand?"

He did not wait for an answer. He orbed out, taking his family with him. They reappeared near the ruins of the cabin that once held Matt. The yard was empty. The whole island felt empty. Not a sound reached their ears. Even the billowing storm above them was silent. Anakin breathed out.

"Can you sense him?" asked Anakin, looking at Wyatt.

Wyatt blinked and nodded. "It's faint, but, yes." His voice was buoyant.

Anakin jerked his head. "Then, go. Take Sarah, Prue, and Mom. Chris and I will try and find Eve."

"You don't think they'll be together?"

Anakin shook his head. "No. Go, don't engage anyone if you don't have to, and if you do don't hold back. Strike quick and hard. They will be aiming to kill."

Anakin and Chris watched the rest jog in the direction of the prison. Sarah had transformed into a massive wolf with thick brown fur. Anakin watched as she slipped into the shadows and all but vanished from sight. He would not want to meet her in the middle of the night. Chris tapped him on the shoulder.

"So what's the plan?"

Anakin sighed. "If Uriel was his usual fabulous self he put the fear of God and the Devil into Eve. She'd want to be near Zach so that she could still watch out for him, but she'd avoid direct contact. My guess, she's in the guard's tower, watching him on whatever surveillance system Lucifer has running in this place."

Chris nodded, even as his eyes narrowed. "Do you know where that'd be?"

"Beats the hell out of me. Let's try the old guard tower and work from there."

They set off, walking quickly, eyes sweeping every nook and cranny for demons or traps.

"Do you remember coming on the tour?" asked Chris to break the unnerving silence.

Anakin bobbed his head slightly. "Well, I remember Aunt Paige spending the whole time puking over the side of the boat, and Wyatt chatting up every cute girl that walked by. Mom eventually had to threaten him with the loss of his phone to get him to stop."

Chris laughed despite the serious of their situation. "He was incorrigible."

"Wait, didn't you learn that word on that trip?"

"Yes, I had decided back at the ripe age of 10 that I was going to fail the SATs."

Anakin chuckled. "You were always a worrier."

"Not much has changed," murmured Chris.

Anakin stopped at the crossing of two passages. "Except me, right."

Chris swallowed audibly. "Annie…"

Anakin looked over his shoulder and forced a smile. "Don't worry, Chris, I don't blame you guys. I'm not—I haven't been exactly warm and fuzzy."

"You're still our brother. We know that. We just—it's difficult to see you being so analytical about things that are so personal. It's like…"

"I'm one of the Elder's, the great heartless servants of the Grand Design," supplied Anakin, choosing to take a left.

Chris bit his tongue and cringed. Anakin had hit the problem exactly on the head. He knew or, at least, thought he knew why Anakin was the way he was. He understood the necessity of an objective leader in the war. He could not reconcile the need for such a leader and said leader being his baby brother. Even if Anakin had always been less emotional than the rest of them, especially after the other Anakin vanished, he always put his loved ones first. Now, he put Chris in a position to be captured in order keep identities of strangers out of the hands of the enemy. He let his nephew rot away for tidbits of information on Lucifer's plans.

Anakin stopped and turned around, facing Chris. "Not everything I've done has been by choice, Chris. What I am, what Uriel made me in order to save me, it limits my actions like it does his."

"Are you…"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "No. I'm not a Power. I just—it's too hard to explain. There are decisions that I know I cannot make, and there are ones I know I have to make. Recently, ever since Africa, really, those feelings have become murkier. It gives me greater freedom, or I think it does, anyway. Maybe, I'm just crazy and finally losing it."

Chris reached out and grasped his upper arm tightly. "You're not crazy."

Anakin half smiled. "We're about to have company."

* * *

Piper flicked her wrists in a well-practiced motion, blasting apart ten demons at a time. No matter how many she vanquished, more poured out of connecting tunnels and stampeded toward her. She vanquished another round of demons, ducked an energy ball, and nimbly tripped a nearby Phoenix assassin. She drove the Phoenix's own athame into his stomach before throwing the blade into the back of a harpy harassing her daughter. Prue shot her a thankful look and returned to fighting off her own hoard.

Piper spun around, looking for her son and daughter-in-law. Wyatt stood in the center of a blue dome, separated from them by thirty demons. He was vanquishing demons scores at a time with his walls of flame. Piper briefly spotted Sarah the wolf. She slipped out of the shadows to rip through three demons and vanished before their companions could retaliate.

They were deep underground and very near Zach's location. They had not run into any demons during their descent through the catacombs beneath the island. That was until Prue stepped on some sort of magical alarm. The trap appeared to have called in half of the population of the Underworld, the low-level half. There was still a suspicious lack of any demon truly capable of taking on a Charmed One or any of her children. Sure, at these numbers, even powerless demons would eventually overwhelm them, but thing could be a lot worse if a dozen upper-level demons showed up.

There were the Phoenix witches who appeared to be in command of the demonic hoard, but they were unfocused, too easy to vanquish. Piper had killed at least four without breaking a sweat. The last time she had faced the Phoenixes it had taken the Power of Three to drive them back. Something was not right.

A demon charged at her with a club held aloft. She blocked the descending weapon with her forearm and drove her palm into the demon's chest, shoving it back. She ripped the club out of its hand and knocked an energy ball out of the air with it. Lazily, she vanquished the demon with her signature power. She smashed the club into the head of the next demon, vanquishing it. She breathed heavily.

Her back bumped into her daughter's back. They both patted the other's shoulder reassuringly still focused on keeping a safe distance between them and any demon. Prue conjuring tiny throwing stars and threw them with deadly accuracy. She was bleeding from a cut across her brow.

"We need to reach your brother," yelled Piper over the cacophony of fighting.

She felt Prue nod. Piper focused her attacks in the direction of Wyatt's blue orb. Demons were throwing themselves upon the impenetrable shield. They should have brought potions, but they had left in such a hurry. Even Wyatt could not keep up an attack indefinitely. Sarah appeared at her side, still shaking the limp corpse of a leather-clad female.

"We're trying to re-group," explained Piper.

The wolf's eyes somehow showed she understood the plan. Piper watched in awe as the shapeshifter bounded forward, physically throwing four demons into the air. Claws flashed, and the demons were disemboweled. Sarah was in full mother bear mode.

"Duck!" screamed Prue.

Piper threw herself to the ground. Something hot flashed past her and crashed into cavern's ceiling. Chucks of smoking rocks began to fall. Piper threw out her hands, freezing the falling mass. She and Prue rolled out of the way and into the feet of a smiling demon, an upper-level demon. Piper recognized him as an oni. Tall, thin, and gray, they were resistant to most forms of magic. They also loved to use swords.

The sword slashed down, and a metal shield appeared inches in front of Piper's face, blocking it. She flipped herself up onto her feet, reveling in the fact she still could do that bit of aerobatics at her age. Prue pulled her out of the way of a second swipe. Her daughter met the third attack with a sword of her own. One that blazed orange.

Prue flung herself into battle. Overwhelming the oni with speed and ferocity. Her sword danced through the air, leaving a streak of color in its wake. The oni's sword shattered. Prue lunged, ready to deliver the fatal blow. Something picked her up and threw her across the passage. The oni shimmered away.

Piper turned, searching for the new attacker. A tall figure carved her way through the demons. With a head of a lioness and two tawny wings spread out behind her, Sekhmet had joined the battle. She still had a finger pointed in Prue's general direction. Piper threw out her hands with everything she had. The air rippled with the amount of energy released. Sekhmet changed focus moments before the attack struck. She covered herself with her wings and dove backward. Piper's attack exploded, destroying the passageway and vanquishing demons in every direction, but Sekhmet survived with little more than a bruised shoulder.

Piper ran. She dragged Prue to her feet. Together they ran hastily. They shoved demons out of the way. Sekhmet laughed wildly behind them. Neither even tried to look behind. They reached Wyatt's shield and threw themselves into it. Unlike the demons, it let them through. Piper felt the tingle as the energy passed around her.

"Sekhmet," patted Piper.

Wyatt's eyes grew wide, summoning Excalibur. "Zach's through those doors. I know it. But every time I get near them demons appear out of nowhere, forcing me back. Where's Sarah?"

Sekhmet's voice tore over the screams and shouts of the demons. "Do you know what the lion did to the fox?"

All their eyes focused on the feline Ennead as she picked up Sarah, the wolf, by the scruff of her neck, holding her out at arm's length. Sekhmet squeezed, and Sarah yelped. Wyatt growled.

"Scavengers should remember who is king," whispered Sekhmet.

She threw Sarah as easily as she was throwing a basketball. Sarah hit the floor hard, knocking over demons, and bounced. She slammed into the wall. Her head snapped back. Bone shattered. The majestic larger than life wolf collapsed in a motionless heap.

"No!" yelled Wyatt.

Sekhmet pointed her long slender finger at Wyatt. The blue shield bowed inward. Wyatt dropped to his knees with a shout. Piper flicked her fingers again. Sekhmet's right wing rose up. A flash of light marked Piper's efforts. The Ennead laughed.

"Where's the challenge? Where's the young warrior who managed to defeat my sister?"

Prue checked on her brother while Piper stared down Sekhmet.

"I'm fine, Prue. We need to get to Sarah," said Wyatt angrily, voice choked up.

Piper ignored her children. There had to be a way she could distract this demon. She had nearly taken down Rahab; she could do this. One lousy demon was not a problem for a Charmed One. She cast her eyes around for a plan. There was nothing immediately available to her, and the demons continued to pound at the shield.

Sekhmet folded her arms across a chest covered in gold-plated armor. "Shall I put the little mutt out of its misery?"

Piper's breath came a bit easier. Sarah was still alive.

Wyatt came to his mother's side, clutching Excalibur. "Leave her alone," he said in an authoritative voice. The ground rumbled in response.

"You're its mate? Come out and defend your mate," taunted Sekhmet.

"Don't."

The world inverted in color for a split second, and Anakin appeared with Chris at Sarah's side. Chris immediately dropped down and held out his hands over her body. Anakin dismissively glared at demons. They disintegrated, leaving the corridor empty.

"Go find Zach," he commanded.

A third figure shimmered in beside Anakin. She was young, too young to be caught up in all this. Anakin turned to her. "Show them the way."

Eve nodded and hurried off, not waiting to see if anyone followed her.

Sekhmet moved, but Anakin waved his hand throwing her off her feet.

"Sarah," moaned Wyatt.

Anakin kept one eye on the Ennead. "Wy, Chris has got her. Go save your son. All of you go!" Anakin waited until they were out of earshot. "Chris, orb her out of here. The wards are down."

Chris hesitated for a moment.

"Go," ordered Anakin in a tone that left no room for argument.

Chris orbed away with a still unconscious and barely breathing Sarah.

Sekhmet rose out of the rubble, roared, and charged. Anakin, slightly hampered by his still injured leg, met her in battle.

* * *

The next room turned out to be a massive greenhouse of some sort. It was also teeming with reptilian cousins to the things that had killed Victor. They were horrible creatures, shorter than the average human but incredibly strong. Their scaly skin deflected attacks both magical and physical. Eve called them 'repvils,' but admitted that was a name she and Zach made up.

Guttural barks and hisses chased them down a corridor, the sounds of a hunt. One of the repvils, a large emerald-colored one, paused in front of their hiding spot, spun in a tight circle, then shot on down the walkway past them. Pursuing hotly after the leader came a half-dozen more of the creatures in all shades of the rainbow. They were too focused on the decoy illusion Wyatt had conjured to bother to notice anything else around them.

Wyatt knew they could not spend their time hiding and flicked his left hand at a motley yellow one. He telekinetically lifted it into the air. The demon caught its clawed heels on the walkway railing and began to somersault in flight. Screaming, it crashed through foliage and landed with a satisfying crunch below. Thankfully, they were a bit easier to kill than their gargoyle-like cousins.

The surprised look on the second powder blue repvil's face died as Wyatt skewered its head on Excalibur's blade. The blue-tinged blade swept up through the top of the creature's skull. As fire consumed its body, Wyatt parried a strike from a club held in the hand of the emerald repvil. With two hands on the hilt, Wyatt knocked the club wide, pivoted on his one foot, and side-kicked the repvil in its snarling face.

As that creature pitched backward, a fat gray one lunged with its weapon at him. The weapon looked like a primitive wooden spear. The older witch felt fire as the weapon sharpened edge grazing the inside of his left thigh. Wyatt whipped Excalibur around in a backhanded slash. He separated the creature's triumphant grin in half, top from bottom.

Whirling back, he saw the young Phoenix standing above two smoking piles of ash. She wiped the remnants of guts from her twin hand blades on the outside of her too tight jeans. During an initial skirmish, they had been separated from Prue and his mother. He hid the impressed look quickly.

"Shall we go?" she asked.

The two of them jumped over the railing, dropping to the level below. Wyatt did not know how many levels of the walkway there were, but he could not see the ground. He landed astride the remains of the repvil he had pitched off the upper level. He frowned, wondering why it was not ash.

Any thoughts of investigating vanished as he turned to his right. A devil, a true devil, was approaching them. The muscular stone-grey creature clearly did not belong on this plane. Each of its movements jittered and flashed, some too fast for him to see and others as in slow motion.

"Quick, the corridor. Run!"

Eve darted down the covered corridor that ran directly below the one in which they had hidden. Wyatt twisted on the ball of his foot to follow, but the repvil clutched at his ankle, latching into it with a vice-like grip. He tried to shake his foot free, but the creature clung on as for dear life. The devil roared a challenge and charged. It conjured a sword as it ran.

Giving up on fleeing, he turned about to face the challenge. He was at a severe disadvantage rooted to the spot. He set himself as best as he could. With Excalibur raised to a textbook guard, he felt ready to parry. The devil was almost upon him when the repvil slammed a powerful fist into his badly wounded leg. Pain shot up through him, dropping him to one knee. He looked up and saw the blade of the devil slashing down in a perfect arc to behead him.

Suddenly, Wyatt felt himself jerked back by in strong invisible force. Her twin metal blades catching the filtered light, Eve stepped onto the walkway. She placed herself between Wyatt and the roaring devil. The devil, whose strike had carved through the repvil instead of Anakin, dropped back into a half crouch, with its weapon aimed at the Phoenix.

The devil thrust at her twice. Eve sidestepped one lunge and then batted the second aside. She pressed an attack, cutting twice at its head. The devil retreated, drawing her forward, as it brought its own blade up to block the slashes. Reversing its sword, it parried her lunge. It riposted with a powerful strike. Eve brushed its attack wide, swiveled, and extended her left leg. The kick caught the devil in the groin. Clearly it was a male judging from the look of pain on its face as it doubled over.

Wyatt smiled and chuckled. His good mood lasted for a split second. Eve staggered to one side and collapsed against the banister. As she slid to the ground, her arm left a dark bloody streak. The devil held out its short sword in an attempt to defend itself. Wyatt saw the blood on its one side. Droplets splattered on the ground. The devil broke into a grin.

"Poisoned."

Wyatt rose to his feet, fury racing through him. He summoned magic, pooling it in the palm of his hand, feeling it surge. He knew it would take a significant amount of power to vanquish the devil in one blow. Fueled by anger, he thought he had it in him to obliterate the devil in a heartbeat. Then he thought vanquishing the devil would not be enough. The creature should suffer before the end. He had it in him to torture the devil. The energy in the palm of his hand crackled. He could make the devil shriek in agony.

The devil advanced casually, the remnants of pain gone. It spun its sword as he walked. He reached Eve's feet, and she moaned. He flicked a glance in her direction and slashed the sword at her throat.

In a heartbeat Wyatt reacted, all thoughts of vengeance abandoned. He could not risk striking the devil down with it so close to Eve. He raised one hand and directed one of Eve's own blades up high enough to block the blow to her neck. The devil's weapon buried itself in the railing, splitting wood and steel with a thunder crack.

The devil had almost tugged his weapon free by the time Wyatt reached him. Excalibur swept low and sudden. It severed one leg. The devil began to topple over. Wyatt used Excalibur efficiently. He sliced the devil in two from pelvis to sternum. The stone like armor held together for a moment, stuck together by a black ichor. The ichor gave way, and the armor fell off, melting away before touching the ground. The devil's surprised look remained frozen on the two halves of its face as black flames consumed it.

Wyatt dropped Eve's side. Her arm had army green veins spreading out from the cut. She was breathing heavily and in sputtering gasps. The blood from the wound stank worse than rotten flesh. He released the energy around his sword. He banished Excalibur. Instinctively he knew he could not heal the wound. They would need an antidote. He hefted her up over his shoulder. Eve weakly protested, but he paid her no mind. He started to run. He needed to find the others. He needed to find his son. They had to get off this island.

Piper felt her fear get replaced by a fierce determination as adrenaline coursed through her. Somehow, in the confusion of stumbling into an underground jungle, she had lost track of Wyatt and Eve. The sudden ambush by demons that looked like miniature dinosaurs minus the tails meant fleeing and fighting. She and Prue were currently sprinting across a rickety wooden bridge over a gorge filled with mist obscuring the bottom. A hunting pack of the reptilian demons pursued, nipping at their heels. Prue sported gash on the forearm from where Piper's attack ricocheted off one of the demon's scaly hide.

They reached the other side. Piper blasted the rope attaching the bridge precariously to the side of the mountain. The demons leaped and chirped in urgency as they realized her plan too late. Prue punched the only one who managed to claw itself onto solid ground as the bridge gave way. It toppled backward, swallowed by the mist. Mother and daughter rested against thick tree trunks, breathing heavily.

"Wyatt's about four hundred yards that way," gasped Prue, rubbing her bruised fist.

Piper nodded and stared up into the endless canopy. "Why'd put Zach in a place like this?"

Prue shrugged, wiping away the sheen of sweat. "It's heavily guarded. Like ridiculously heavily guarded. There are hundreds of those things in here."

"What about Chris and Anakin?"

Prue paused briefly. "I can't sense Chris—but that doesn't mean anything, Mom. Ok? Relax, a bit. Anakin probably had him orb out with Sarah. No, Mom, don't try and defend him. It's exactly the sort of manipulative shit he'd do. Send us in here, then banish Chris, so that he can sacrifice himself. God, for once can't he just be honest. Tell us the whole plan."

Piper shot her daughter a warning look. Prue fell silent and wilted under her critical gaze.

"Ok, sorry. Sorry."

Piper huffed. "What about Zach?"

Prue shook her head. "Nothing. Still."

"Let's go find your brother," said Piper, pushing herself away from the tree.

They started the trek through the thick underbrush in silence. Each woman lost in thought and desperately straining with every sense to spot danger before it was too late. The jungle around them remained void of noise save for the little they generated. Without any clear warning the jungle ended, and they found themselves on the edge of a gradually sloping hill covered in tiny yellow flowers. At random intervals, large monoliths stood erect like spines growing out of a creature's back.

"What is this place?" hissed Prue quietly.

Piper shrugged at a complete loss. The place felt alive but not in a good way. It had the appearance of a tranquil park, yet something was off. A large bee-like insect buzzed past them. Both women jumped. It was the first signs of life they had seen since the bridge. The bee flew on, ignoring the two witches. It landed on one of the flowers. Piper watched in horror as the flower transformed into a rotting hand and squashed the bee.

"Oh, shit! It's a…"

"A limbus circus." Anakin finished Prue's thought.

Piper threw her arms around her youngest son and hugged him tight.

"Mom. MOM! We don't have time. I was able to fight Mafdet into a stalemate, but she's bound to find a way around the wards I threw up. Where are Wy and Eve?" Anakin was covered in tiny cuts, and his left eye was swollen shut.

"'You look like shit," said Prue before she too gave him a hug.

Anakin hugged her back with unrestrained gratitude for her continued survival. "Prue…"

Prue stared back at the scene before them. "But this isn't supposed to happen."

"It's the result of the darkest form of magic, and we're talking about the Prince of Darkness."

Piper frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Anakin gestured at the hill and flowers. "This is what happens when the barrier between this world and the next is torn apart. It would have occurred in the ritual place used to resurrect Lucifer and me, but Uriel smite-ed that whole region of the Underworld. My guess, this whole expanded universe dimension greenhouse is Lucifer's attempt to contain the damage."

"Damage?"

Anakin nodded. "The tear in the fabric of reality could expand. It could repair itself. This—whatever the hell it is—has cut it off from our world. Hence the circus limbus. It's the area where Lucifer's magic and the power spilling from the rip are colliding."

Piper looked at Prue. "You know about this stuff?"

Prue sheepishly shrugged. "It—I—um…"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I told her about it. After Michael died, I told her of the dangers linked in trying to bring him back."

"Oh, sweetie…"

Anakin interrupted his mother. "Wyatt!"

Wyatt staggered out of the jungle a couple of feet from them, soaked in blood. He had a slightly green and very pale Eve over one shoulder and wielding Excalibur in a blur of deflections in his free hand. Anakin raised his hand and screams followed by explosions blasted out of the jungle. Wyatt slumped to the ground. All three witches raced over to him.

"What…"

"Wyatt!"

"Wy."

Wyatt blinked. Excalibur vanished. "Heal her. Anakin—you have to heal her."

Anakin gingerly laid out the unconscious Phoenix. He studied the wound and took her temperature. He clamped his teeth and shut his eyes.

"Anakin!" cried Wyatt more urgently.

Anakin stretched out a hand and squeezed Wyatt's shoulder.

Wyatt shook his head. "No. No. NO! Do you hear me! NO!"

Piper bent down. "Wy, honey…"

Wyatt glared at her. "I don't want to hear it, Mom. NO! She—it was meant—FIX THIS! Someone. Anyone."

Prue brushed the matted hair out of Eve's clammy face. "What happened?"

"A—thing—trapped…me…" managed Wyatt, breathing in gasps.

Anakin breathed out heavily. "Wy, I—this is terrible, I know. I know, believe me, I do, but we've still got to get Zach. Mafdet is coming, and we still need to find your son."

Wyatt blinked at Anakin with tear-filled eyes. "He's in there." He pointed near the top of the hill where the monoliths appeared to make a circle.

Anakin nodded. "Ok. Ok—right, you stay here. Keep her warm. Keep her safe. I'll be right back."

Anakin stood up, and Prue caught him by his upper arm.

"Anakin, no one can enter that—no one alive. Not if they want to keep on living."

Anakin nodded. "I know, Prue, but if Zach's been in it since before it was created—I can get him out."

Prue looked down at Wyatt and her mother. Both were paying them no mind. "Anakin, we can't lose you."

Anakin half smiled and patted Prue's hand. "You need Zach more. Let me do this. Let me prove to you and Wyatt I'm still the brother you loved. Let me save our nephew."

Prue's eyes welled up. "Annie…" She gulped, losing her voice.

"Love you too, sis." Anakin kissed her cheek and stepped back, vanishing beneath a horde of decomposing monsters that appeared out of nowhere. Prue stumbled backward, falling to the ground.

For Anakin, the world changed. It lost most of its color. The air grew cooler and heavier. The near silence of the clearing was replaced by eerie calls and ghostly whispers. He tried to raise an arm and found his body respond sluggishly to his command. It felt like dragging his arm through syrup, thick, stinky syrup. The smell made him gag. It was the smell of death.

"Come on, Anakin, you've been through worse. Pull yourself together."

Anakin balled his hands into fists, which took an excruciating entirety. He dug deep within inside himself and called up the spark. It was not his magic, but it was related to it. It was whatever Uriel had sown to his soul to save it from obliteration. His eyes blazed, lighting up the world returning some of its colors.

"Be careful, child, lest you use up what is still needed."

Anakin spun around looking for the source of the lyrical voice. He was still alone. He focused his attention to the top of the hill. The flowers were gone, turned to ash and brown slick mulch. The monoliths were worn and eroded. At the top of the hill shone a pure bright light. Anakin guessed what it meant and groaned. He started up the hill, digging his heels deep into the slippery ground with each step to keep from sliding back down.

Sweat broke out across his furrowed forehead. Trickles of liquid run down his back. He puffed and coughed. The air was dryer than the Sahara. His tongue stuck the roof of his mouth. Still he climbed, tripping and stumbling. Twice he fell flat on his face, getting the rotting remains that composed the top layer of ground in his mouth, nose, and eyes. After what felt like hours he neared the top of the hill and looked back down. Grey figures, bent and warped, flittered between shadows. The barrier was still growing.

The bright white light pulsated. Unimaginable power flowed over him. It washed away the smell and grime from the climb. In the light, the world was not pale and gray but brimming with blazing color. Anakin wrapped his arms around himself and looked around. He spotted three figures in the distance. Two were kneeling on the ground. The last one, the source of the light, held a sword aloft and was in the midst of a battle against a thin stream of blackness.

Anakin hurried over to the group, careful to keep himself behind the figure with the sword. As he neared the two other figures reacted to his presence. They stood up. The taller one took a step toward him, readying to attack.

Anakin held p both hands. "Zach?"

The blond boy paused and frowned. "Do—do I know you?"

Anakin nodded quickly, glancing up at the third figure. "Yes," he whispered, "Yes, you do. Remember? I'm your uncle Annie. Remember?"

Zach tilted his head to one side. "Annie," he said slowly. "No, that can't be true. Annie died."

Anakin frowned. Uriel had told Zach about Anakin. "Zach, I came back. The night Lucifer was resurrected."

Zach furrowed his brow. "That—that sounds right. But how do I know it's you? This place…there's been others…"

The light pulsated again, pushing Anakin back.

"Think back to the first time you went to the beach. Remember? I was the one you trusted enough to finally come into the water with. Come on, Zach, you've got to remember that."

Slowly, Zach's head started to bob. "Anakin. You're here. You're real?"

"Yes," said Anakin emphatically.

The other boy stepped up to Zach and whispered in his ear. Zach shook his head. "No, Michael, I trust him. He's our uncle. Does that mean my dad's here?"

Michael—Michael was dead.

Anakin knew the other boy was his once dead nephew. He saw Prue's eyes and Kyle's nose of the boy. The young teen was also exactly like his twin, but there were subtly differences. Michael was a little bit leaner than Richard. He had the slightest of gaps between his two front teeth. There was a tiny scar on his cheek from a childhood accident.

"Yes, your dad's here. And your mom, Michael."

Michael jumped at his name. "Mike—call me, Mike."

"Ok, but we've got to go."

Zach glanced back at the third figure. "He said we couldn't go. Not until the rift is sealed."

Anakin looked at the figure. "Lucifer lies. You know that."

The figure reacted to his name. The light grew brighter. Anakin's skin started to blister. He gritted his teeth. "Come on, we've got to go. Zach, something happened—Eve, she's in trouble."

Zach's eyes widened. "Eve. What's wrong with her?"

"We need to go," repeated Anakin, offering a hand.

Zach reached out immediately and took it. Lucifer's light diminished. Michael hesitated but took Zach's hand. The three witches orbed out. The darkness recoiled and vanished. Lucifer dropped to his knees; his light extinguished. As he looked up, breathing heavily, he smirked.

* * *

AN: What did you think? Was it worth the wait?

Until next time!


	10. Seven Devils

AN: The next installment...

* * *

SEVEN DEVILS

"Keep them away," warned Anakin, indicating the crowd of teenagers with a jerk of his head.

Piper, bruised and battered, broke away from the main group. She headed off Zach's friends, expertly bringing them to a standstill. Anakin sighed and hobbled up the steps to Sarah's family house. He was the last up the stairs. Chris and Sarah were already inside. Wyatt stood in the doorway torn between seeing his wife and keeping an eye on his mute son. Zach stood on the porch with Michael at his side contemplating the sunrise. Prue was nowhere in sight. Anakin assumed she was helping situate Eve inside somewhere.

Suyana approached him, looking grim. "Necromancy."

Anakin blinked, not meeting her accusing eyes. "There's no evidence it was him."

"Don't lie to me, Twice Born. You know exactly why the Dark One wanted my grandson. He succeeded."

Anakin shot her a withering glare. "I don't see him rampaging through the world, killing on a whim."

Suyana's eyes flashed angrily. "He has yet to transform. His mother has taught him nothing of his gifts."

"Go to your daughter, Suyana. Make sure my brother understands the complications. They will want to heal her. I need to attend to the girl," whispered Anakin commandingly.

Not to be outdone or seen to be taken orders, Suyana glared at him and bared her teeth. A bit of her bear appeared in her furious eyes. Anakin still covered in grit and half-dried blood did not even blink at the display. He breathed out through his nose and met her eyes.

"Hey! We could use some help in here!" yelled Chris from deep inside the house.

Suyana backed down and brushed past Anakin with a huff. The blond witch dragged his fingers through his matted hair. Patches of his hair were grey and singed, the result of the break out of the limbus circus. His skin still tingled with pins and needles. The retreat had taken a lot more out of him than he cared to admit. He had so far managed to walk without the aid of a cane, but he could feel his thigh muscle weakening. It burned, and there was a tender, hot section of skin over his once nearly healed injury. He doubted the injury would ever truly heal after today.

Gritting his teeth against the pain Anakin crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him. He could hear activity down the corridor. He trudged along, using the wall for support. When he passed the living room Zach stopped him. The boy was skinny, too skinny, but he appeared physically unharmed by his stay with Lucifer.

"Yes?" hissed Anakin. Pain shot down his right side.

Zach licked his lips. "I—er—I wanted—um—you know, to say—ah—thanks."

Anakin offered him a small smile and he patted his nephew on the top of his head. "You're…"

Zach grabbing him abruptly and enwrapping him in a bone-crushing hug cut him off. Anakin awkwardly returned the hug. The boy buried his head into Anakin's shoulder. Anakin felt the area of clothing beneath Zach dampen. He squeezed him tighter. Eventually, Zach stepped back and wiped the corners of his eyes.

"My mom, she's…"

Anakin bowed his head. "Go, be with her. I'm sure she'll be fine, but she'll want you to be by her side when she wakes. I'm going to see if anything can be done for Eve."

Zach gulped back sobs. "I…" He shook his head. "Let me know. I—I want to be there if…" he could not finish the depressing thought.

Anakin understood and gestured for Zach to lead the way. They reached the room filled with people. Sarah was still in her wolf form. Both Wyatt and Chris had their hands over her shivering body. Their hands were glowing, but not in the warm light Anakin recognized. This light was harsher. Zach slipped into the room and went to stand by his maternal grandmother. Suyana wrapped an arm around the boy. The rest of Sarah's family were keeping a silent vigil. Anakin turned away from the scene.

Anakin found Prue, Kyle, and Michael in a smaller bedroom toward the back of the house. Eve lay on the almost sterile bed, unmoving and ashen. Prue spotted him and waved him into the room, still clutching tightly to Michael like he would vanish if she let go. Kyle stood behind his wife and son trying to look grim but failing utterly. Michael's return was amazing.

"How is she?" asked Anakin unable to think of something else to say.

Prue finally let go of Michael and stepped up to her brother. She stared directly into his eyes for a moment before embracing him. "I'm so happy you made it," she mumbled into his chest.

Kyle coughed. "I'm not a doctor, but it doesn't seem like anything's changed. She hasn't moved. Her breathing is labored but steady. Her pupils react if you shine a light in them."

Michael shied away from Anakin as he approached the bed. Anakin ignored the reaction of his nephew and sat down on the bed. He brushed a few strands of hairs out of Eve's face. Her chest rose and fell with each wheezing breath. Her skin was clammy and tinged green. The wound on her arm was worse than before. The flesh around it was starting to liquefy and rot. Anakin started to rub his thigh and yelped.

"Annie?" asked Prue, concerned.

Anakin shook his head. "It's nothing. Just forgot how tender it is. I'm fine."

He conjured a stethoscope and placed the drum over Eve's heart. He listened for a moment. Her heart was racing. He closed his eyes and moved the listening device further down. He took a deep breath, careful to not catch the watchful eyes of his sister. There was silence. He had no idea what it meant.

"And?"

Anakin banished the stethoscope. "She's slipping away. Her heart is beating too fast. It'll give in eventually."

Tears began to run down Prue's face. "And the baby?"

"Baby!" exclaimed Kyle.

Anakin shrugged. "I can't tell, not that it matters. If she dies, it'll die as well. There's nothing that could be done."

Kyle hugged his wife. "Baby?" he asked again in a softer tone.

"It's Zach's," said Anakin simply. He pulled out a thin reedy stick a little longer than a ruler from thin air and began waving it over her, paying special attention to the wound. "It's poisoned. Something related to—no, that's not right. It's too alkaline. Maybe, werewolf venom. It's acting too fast for it to be that."

He kept a commentary running for the benefit of Kyle, Michael, and Prue. He was not sure if they were listening. He was not entirely sure they were still in the room. He continued to scan Eve. Identifying the poison was their only hope at a cure. The wound was cursed. He could feel the curse fighting his scans. Straightforward healing would not help; it might even make things worse.

"What's that spell? I've never seen one like that in the Book," said Michael accusatorially.

Prue hushed him, but Michael would not be contained. He broke free of his parents' grips and rushed Anakin. He punched the older witch square on the jaw. Anakin fell over, knocking his head against the bedside table.

"Mike!" yelled Prue, horrified.

Michael dodged out of reach of his mother. He kicked at Anakin. "That's not a normal spell. He's killing her. HE'S KILLING HER!"

Anakin caught one of Michael's legs in his arms, the room still spinning. He tugged gently, pulling his nephew off balance. The young witch fell backwards. Anakin conjured a pillow to protect Michael's head. Prue and Kyle hurried next to their son and held him firm. Anakin crawled back onto his knees, wincing. His head pounded in time with his beating heart.

"It's a spell I picked up from a healer in London," murmured Anakin, rubbing his jaw.

Michael glared back at him before turning his attention to his parents. "Can't you see! He's evil!"

Kyle pulled the boy up and held him firmly. "Come on, Mike, kiddo."

Prue sat on the ground torn, watching them go.

Anakin jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Go. There's not much more you can do here."

"Annie," started Prue.

Anakin shook his head. "He's confused. God knows what he saw with Lucifer. Go be with your son. Send Paige or Pyrrha up if you see them. Poisons and their antidotes were a specialty of theirs." He kept his voice mild and comforting.

Prue nodded and left.

Anakin turned back to the bed and Eve to find her eyelids flutter open.

"Anakin!" she gasped out.

Anakin laid a gentle hand on her sweaty forehead. "You're awake."

"Di—ddd…"

Anakin placed a finger against his lips. "Don't try and talk. We've all made it out. At least, I think we did. Sarah's still in bad shape. We got Zach and Michael. Back safely."

Her eyes grew large. She did not know about Michael's return.

Anakin sighed heavily. "You're not doing too well. I don't know what poison or potion or curse that thing hit you with. It's draining you, draining your magic."

Tears started pouring down her pale face.

"I wish there was something I could do. For you, for the baby."

She gulped down air and shivered.

Anakin brushed her hair. "No, I'm not of the same mind as Uriel. I wouldn't have chosen it for either of you, but anything made in love is to be cherished, especially in these dark times."

"Not—love."

Anakin frowned. "What?"

Eve mimicked a goldfish, struggling for words. "Zz—zach not—l—love."

"Don't sell my nephew short. He may be a lot of things, but his father he is not. He doesn't see sex as just another fun thing to do. Or at least, that's the impression I got on the few occasions I peeked in on him." Anakin continued to speak because it was all he could do. All the power flowing through him and in this very important moment he was powerless.

Hours later Wyatt came up to the room still in the same weathered and torn clothes. Anakin sat on the floor, holding one of Eve's hands in his. The girl was asleep again. Anakin stirred when he felt his brother enter the room.

"She's healed. She's safe," whispered Wyatt. His eyes were still hollow.

Anakin smiled, happy for his brother. "That's good, Wy."

Wyatt gestured at Eve. "She saved me."

"I know."

Wyatt sunk to the floor next to him. "She shouldn't die."

Anakin grabbed hold of his brother's hand with his free one and squeezed. "Life's not fair. It sucks. I hate it, but that's the truth. She—she always said she wanted to go out saving someone she loved. And she loves your son, Wy. She's proud of what she did."

"The baby," said Wyatt in a shaking voice.

"The poison sapped the last of her magic hours ago. Even if somehow her magic protected the baby before then, it's dead by now," said Anakin analytically unable to face the horror of the truth any other way.

Wyatt laid his head on Anakin's shoulder and broke down. Tears ran hot and freely down his cheeks.

* * *

Zach sat on his mother's childhood bed, cross-legged. His father was somewhere else. He had not seen the man since the night before. It was still early in the morning. The sun had barely cleared the horizon. Frost glistened in the corners of the window. His mother sat at her old vanity busy brushing her hair. He stared at her face in the mirror. She still looked weak and sickly, but there was more color in her cheeks. He kneaded the back of his stiff neck. He had spent the night trying to sleep in the rickety rocking chair.

"Grandmother won't mind if you don't come to breakfast," he said softly for the hundredth time.

Sarah smiled and looked over her shoulder. "You don't know her like I do, Zach. My mother expects you to be at that table unless you're on your deathbed."

Zach rolled his eyes. He did not have many memories concerning his maternal grandparents, but the ones he did were all cheerful. His mother's father had been a jokester and always carried sweets in his pockets. His grandmother was sterner to be sure, but she always showered him with love. He sometimes wished he spent more time with his mother's family. It hurt him that his mother kept him from them.

"Shouldn't you be up checking on your friend?" asked Sarah, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail.

Zach shuddered at the thought. He could not face going to the room. His uncle had not left the room. It could not be good news.

"I don't want you to be by yourself," he said, which was true if not the whole of it.

Sarah turned around on the short swivel stool. "I'm fine, Zach. Your father and uncle wouldn't have let me out of their sight if they hadn't completely healed me. My mother wouldn't have let them."

"You're still pale," said Zach, playing with a stray thread on the blanket.

Sarah stood up and spun around. "See, I'm fine. What's really going on, sweetheart?"

Zach ran his fingers through his hair and stared down at the spot between his legs. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to break the dangerous cycle. It did not work. His eyes stung as tears built up. One sob broke free of his control, then another and another. He felt his mother fall on the bed beside him and wrap arms around him. He resisted for a moment longer. She hugged him tighter. He gave in and turned his face into her chest and let go of his fear.

"Shh, baby boy, shh," murmured Sarah, rubbing circles on his back.

Zach hiccoughed and sat up a bit. He rubbed his eyes and sniffled. "She—mom, she—she…"

Sarah nodded in understanding, her heartbreaking for her son.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" called Sarah, not letting go of Zach.

"Sarah? It's me."

The voice stilled Zach.

Sarah hugged him closer. "Come in, Annie."

Anakin opened the door, looking haggard. Black bags sat under his bloodshot eyes. He stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Um—it's—Zach, you should come. She wants to talk to you."

Zach gulped and shook his head. Sarah held him tight, staring up at her brother-in-law. She saw the truth in his eyes. They did brim with power, and both were blue. It was not good news. They were going to lose the girl. They were going to lose her grandchild.

"Zach, honey, I can come with you. Would you like that?" she asked softly and sweetly.

Zach did not move for a few moments. Slowly he nodded his head against her shoulder, just like he did when he was a small child and he need his mother. She took a deep breath.

"Alright, up."

Zach followed her off the bed and onto his feet. He was like a zombie or a robot, mimicking her actions. Anakin lead the way down the hall. He stopped by the door. Chris called for him.

"I'll be right there." He looked at Sarah. "I've—no—I can stay."

Zach stepped up to his uncle. "I don't want you here."

Sarah saw the pain pass over Anakin's face. Anakin smiled and turned away, squeezing Zach's shoulder as he passed.

"Zach," started Sarah, reaching for the same shoulder.

Zach shrugged his mother's hands off his shoulder as he stared through the open doorway. In the tiny bedroom, covered with a white sheet to her throat, Eve lay on a bed, barely moving. He could tell she was still breathing, but her breaths came shallow and hurried.

Sarah spoke in a soft voice. "You don't have to go in there alone."

Zach sniffed and nodded to his mother. "She's…she asked for me. I have to. I should be with…" His voice failed him.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat choking him. "No, I can do this. Just, um…"

"I'll wait here," said Sarah in understanding.

"Thank you." Anakin brushed away a tear and entered the room. Dust still covered most surfaces in the room. He could see where people stood the night before. A large clean spot in front of the bedside table told him someone, Anakin, had sat with her all night. He moved over to the same spot and knelt down at the side of the bed. He rested his hand on Eve's hidden wrist.

She started for a second and then opened her eyes. Her surprised expression changed into one of happiness though it lingered for only a second or two. Weariness washed from her, and Zach could see the spark of life dimming. "Zach," she struggled to say. Her voice barely louder than a breath.

"Hi. How are you?" Zach squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Stupid, stupid…"

Eve slipped her left hand from beneath his grip and the sheet then brushed a tear from his cheek. "It's okay. The poison—"

Zach sniffed. "My uncle…"

"He's done all he can." She lowered her hand and grabbed his, squeezing as hard as she could, which felt terribly weak to him. "There is nothing that can do. I'm dying."

"No! Not fair—you can't!" Zach snarled as hot tears splashed down his cheeks. "Not you, not like—"

"Zach?"

If he had not been kneeling, his knees would have buckled. He felt tired and weak. He covered his face with his hands and felt Eve stroking his hair.

"Zach, there's something you need to know," she whispered.

Zach sobbed. "There's got to be something we can still do. A potion. An antidote. I can't lose you."

Eve squeezed his hand again. "Zach, please."

He looked up through tear-blurred eyes. "It hurts."

"I know." She managed a weak smile. "Zach, you have to know…even though I'm dying…I would not change things…nothing."

"How can you say…"

She stroked his cheek, her fingers cold against his skin. "Before I met you, Zach, all I knew was death and fighting and struggling. You showed me there's more to life. I—Anakin will tell you everything, but I want you to know—I loved you, truly loved you."

He reached up and covered her hand with his. "I love you."

Eve smiled again, maintaining it though the corners of her mouth quivered. "You are amazing, Zach. As you heal, you will be stronger than anyone can imagine. We," she touched her stomach, "are proud of you, so prou…"

Her voice faded, along with her smile, as the life drained from her. Zach pressed her hand harder against his tear-covered face but found her touch fleeting and faint. As he watched, she became lighter, than translucent, and finally disappeared as the sheet that had covered her collapsed. He collapsed back, giving into the sobs.

* * *

"She could have told him," muttered Chris, leaning toward Anakin.

The two witches stood on the banks of a small stream. All around them, the signs of spring fought back the dreariness of winter. The stream was only half frozen over. Small colorful buds decorated some of the still leafless trees. Green poked through the snow at random intervals. Already songbirds were singing in the distance. The sun did not feel quite so lifeless on their faces.

It was the day after the funeral, and a week since they had recused Zach and Michael. The funeral was a somber affair and terribly awkward. No one besides Anakin and Zach really knew Eve. The adults, of course, mourned the loss of a second life, but no one said a word about the baby. Zach spread Eve's ashes under a grand oak tree. He said oaks were Eve's favorite trees. After the funeral, everyone broke off into smaller groups.

Anakin shook his head. "She didn't tell him. I've read his thoughts."

"You've what!" exclaimed Chris loudly.

"As much as I'm happy he's with us. Uriel was worried about him for good reason. I won't risk the lives of everyone here."

Chris rubbed his temples. "And?"

"He doesn't know about the baby; at least, it's not clearly on his mind. His memories of Eve are boiling at the surface. He's like you, unfortunately. He keeps everything bottled up. I'd risk scrambling his brains if I pressed too hard."

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

"This reminds me of after the funeral for my father-in-law," said Chris thoughtfully.

Anakin kicked a stone into the stream. "It doesn't feel right keeping it from him."

Chris shrugged. "That's for Wyatt and Sarah to decide."

"We don't need anything that'll alienate him. Whatever Lucifer's plans, you can bet he had contingencies for something like this. He'll have planted doubts in Zach's mind."

"Or he could have already won," said Suyana, rippling out of the snow mid-transformation.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Can you sense any of the darkness on him?"

Chris frowned. "How could he have won?"

"By turning my grandson into a beast," hissed Suyana, glaring at Anakin.

Anakin stepped forward, nose-to-nose with the old stern woman. "He is not a beast. He is a child and family."

Suyana scoffed not backing down. "Family means nothing to them in the end. They are mindless. They kill for the pleasure of it. It won't matter what, mortal, witch, or demon. They are uncontrollable. They are insane."

"Zach is not insane. He's not tried to kill anyone," said Anakin with venom.

"He'll be in the beginnings of the transformation. It'll take time since he's never turned before. His Charmed magic protects his mind, but the darkness will win out. Lucifer knows this. Why do you think he has not retaliated? It's because he knows he doesn't need to. He simply needs to wait. The naagolishii will bring him victory."

"Naagolishii?" asked Chris, bewildered.

Suyana turned her cold eyes on Chris. "Sarah never told you what happened to her grandfather? She never explained why I was raised in the foster system of white men rather than by my tribe?"

Chris shook his head. Anakin remained silent, folding his arms.

Suyana scoffed. "My tribe is not from this part of the world. Here they have distant memories of the darkness and oppression of the world before white man came with their guns and religion, but in the tall mountains, my tribe understood the truth behind the myths and stories of our past. We were an oppressed people. Governed by beings too terrible to name, until brave shaman from each family banned together. They called upon our ancestors to give them strength. They were granted them the gift to change their shapes. While possessed by their animal nature the shamans tore apart the greatest of the masters. So were born the first of the skin walkers."

Chris nodded along, vaguely familiar with the story from one of his classes in Magic School.

"One individual from every generation of each family line from then on was granted the gift and the burden of being a skin walker. They were to use the powers to protect the tribe, be their shield against the dark forces of the world. The gift came with a warning. A skin walker must always remain true and loyal to the light. Should they ever slip, their base nature would overwhelm them. It would transform them into the very beasts they were charged to fight."

"A naagolishii?"

Suyana nodded. "Yes. It is a base creature. One driven by thirst and hunger and unquenchable anger. My father turned into one. He used his power for personal gain and abandoned his family and tribe. To protect me, my mother abandoned me and my siblings at the doorsteps of a church far from her homelands when I was five. I never saw her again, but I met my father once more. For you see my mother was a shaman of a different sort. Through her, I gained powers, magic. My father sought me out right when I was at the age of turning. He wanted me for my power. At first, I was drawn into the idea reuniting my family, but he could not hide his contempt for my younger brother and sister. He tried to kill them one day. I arrived in time. The fear, anger, and hurt of betrayal spurred on my transformation."

Anakin unfolded his arms, frowning deeply. "You killed the Terror of the North as an untrained skin walker?"

Suyana smirked. "There is a reason I am the skin walker all others answer to, youngling."

Anakin interrupted Chris's unasked question. "A naagolishii is difficult to vanquish. Even the weakest of their kind would make Barbas quake in his shoes. They feed off magic. The Terror of the North was, at least, a century old by the time of his death. That's a century of collecting and storing magic."

"And Zach is his great-grandson. No only that, but he is the product of Charmed blood. Imagine the terror he could wreak."

Anakin gritted his teeth. "So? Do you want to kill him? Or are you leaving that heartless job to me?"

Suyana took a step back and for the first time looked a little afraid. "Best to do it before he is unstoppable. The myths are vague on the details, but the descriptions of the masters sound awfully like the Powers."

"Half-breeds. There is no way five mortals even possessed by angry ancestors took down a Power," said Anakin mockingly.

"Believe what you will, Anakin, but there is a reason you chose to set up base in a place you could rely on me as guardian."

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, whatever. Still—I'm not killing Zach."

Suyana wrapped her cloak around herself as the wind picked up. "You may not have a choice."

"Train him," said Chris quietly like a mouse.

Anakin and Suyana turned to him. He gulped.

"Well, you said this—corruption or whatever will take time. It's tied to his skin walker ability, so train him. You'll be able to tell if there's anything wrong. We'll have a heads up."

Exchanging glances with Suyana, Anakin took a step back and leaned heavily on his cane. He met Chris's searching eyes. There was so much hope and fear in his brother's face. The possibility of Zach being a danger was not something he could ignore, but the teen was his nephew. Putting him in any unnecessary danger, at this point, felt wrong on so many levels.

Suyana saved him from answering. "The transformation will not happen naturally for Zach while both I and his mother are alive. There are only ever two shape shifters in a bloodline."

Chris frowned and stared at Anakin expectantly.

"That's not true," whispered Anakin.

"I know the histories of my people," hissed Suyana.

Anakin's eyes lit up, changing color to a pale yellow. His patience with the woman evaporated. "I'm not saying that you do not. The shape shifter gift is a magical ability granted to five mortal families, and through the centuries, they have all remained mortal—until you. You are part shaman. It altered your abilities significantly. The power to transform relies on a talisman charmed by whoever granted the tribe the gift. You wear the talisman of your bloodline around your neck, but you do not need it to transform. Your own magic can power the gift. Zach—Zach is the son of the Twice Blessed."

Suyana swallowed. "That's not true."

Anakin snapped his finger. A necklace appeared in his hand. Hanging off the weathered leather strap was a massive claw yellowed by time. His eyes flashed and the talisman burst into flames. Suyana screamed but remained rooted in place, a look of horror on her face.

"Transform," commanded Anakin in a low voice.

The water in the stream jumped a danced. Chris felt the power behind the command brush past him. Suyana doubled over. Bone cracked and broke. Wrinkled skin tore. Dark brown fur sprang out of the wounds. A mass far larger than the woman emerged out of her shriveled flesh. The larger than life bear roared and took a swipe at Anakin. The witch flicked his hand, deflecting the decapitating blow with a burst of telekinesis. Anakin forced himself to take a deep breath. His eyes returned to their green and blue configuration. He stepped forward, raising a hand out to the furious bear.

"The talisman is a reservoir of magic. Uriel showed me how to make them. Powerful. Dreadfully difficult to make. They are designed to grant mortals access to magic. Your bloodline now has its own magic. The talisman is simply a symbol for you."

He waved his hand and the talisman reformed on the ground. He bent down and picked it up. By the time he managed to stand up straight again, Suyana stood before him, hand outstretched. She grabbed the necklace and slapped him.

"Ow," murmured Chris.

Suyana pocketed her family heirloom. "Do you agree with your brother's assessment? Should my grandson begin his training?"

Anakin shrugged. "I've got no fucking clue. It's not a decision we make in a vacuum. Wyatt and Sarah need to be told—and Zach."

"I'll talk to my daughter and Wyatt. They can decide how much Zach needs to know." Suyana vanished.

Chris reached out and touched his brother. "I know why Sarah doesn't like the woman, but I thought you and her, at least, got along."

"We did," sighed Anakin. "Her fear about Zach has strained our relationship."

"I know it's bad, but why do you hate her so much for…" Chris trailed off unsure what he wanted to ask and if he wanted to know the answer.

Anakin looked him in the eyes. "Because if what she fears is true, I'm the only one capable of killing a naagolishii of Zach's power."

Chris gulped and his eyes widened. He understood Anakin's anger was not anger, but fear. Fear he would have to rip their family apart to protect them. He shuddered, thankful the choice would never be up to him.

* * *

The smell of homemade stew filled the house. Spring may be just around the corner, but the wind still had a chill in it. Fires warmed living rooms, and old oil heaters heated bedrooms. Andrew's stomach grumbled as he listened to the metal creak and crackle as the heater came up to temperature again. He sat on an unmade bed, clutching one pillow to himself. Across the room atop the dusty desk sat Sophia. Both teens sat in silence and watched the third and last teenager in the room.

Zach wore a creased black t-shirt and black jeans a size too small for him. His slightly too long hair stood up at odd angles. He had sleep in the corner of his sunken and red eyes. His skin was oily. A tray of food sat by the closed door untouched from dinner the previous night. Bits of scrambled egg and shattered plate scattered the carpeted floor. At least an hour had passed since any of them had said a word.

Zach slammed his fist into the door, making Sophia jump.

"Zach…" Andrew fell silent again unable to come up with anything to comfort his best friend.

The funeral for Eve was held two days previously. During the intervening time, Zach had kept out of everyone's way. He did not stay locked up in his room because his parents refused to let him mope by himself. So he took to wondering aimlessly around the Compound. He spoke to no one besides his mother. Except for one instance the day before when he came face to face with Anakin. He had screamed at his uncle for an hour and would have continued if his mother had not dragged him away. He actively avoided any of the teens. His parents designed the presence of his friends in his room. Zach slumped to the ground, landing heavily on his knees. His teeth snapped together and caught a bit of his tongue. He did not care.

"She was pregnant," he said loudly.

Andrew gasped.

Sophia shifted in place on the desk. "What?"

Zach nodded and turned around to face them. "Yeah. I felt it. I've gotten real good at sensing things. She was pregnant with my child."

Sophia moved as if to come to him. She thought better and jerked back. Andrew hugged the pillow tighter.

"Say something!" snapped Zach.

Andrew opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "Zach—uh—oh, hell—Zach. That fucking sucks."

Zach laughed hollowly. "Master of the obvious."

Sophia slipped off the desk but remained across the room. "We're so sorry. I'm sorry. Did she—er—did she know?"

"Yes," said Zach, hard and cold. "She never told me. She suspected it for a week. Found out the truth the day it happened. I guess, I can take comfort in that she really didn't have a whole lot of time to tell me, but that'd be a lie. We fucked a few hours before. She could've told me then."

Sophia blanched at the callousness.

Andrew dropped the pillow. "Zach, please…"

"Please! PLEASE! Please, what? Huh? What exactly do you fucking want from me?" yelled Zach.

"To let us in," said Andrew simply. He had gone through the bereavement process with Daniel. He knew intellectually the anger and bravado were not directed at him or Sophia. It did not make the pain he felt when Zach looked at him in disgust hurt any less.

Zach punched the floor. "You didn't fucking know her! You all are just shit-eating ecstatic at having me back, but I lost my child! I lost her. I—I—I…" Zach swallowed against the growing lump in his throat and pawed at his eyes furiously.

Andrew climbed off the bed and knelt down beside his friend. He hesitantly reached out and rested his hand on Zach's shoulder. For the months of Zach's capture, he had been imagining what his friend would be going through. He never imagined something like this. They were too young to deal with this type of loss. He glanced over at Sophia at a loss of what to say.

"Tell us about her," whispered Sophia, voice cracking.

Zach sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "No. I—it's—no."

Andrew inched forward on his knees. "Don't block us out. You don't have to go through this alone," he said gently.

"It's n—n—not th—that. I can't think—think ab—about—it," gasped Zach between sobs.

"Oh, sweetie," said Sophia, joining them on the floor.

Zach smiled through tears. "I missed you."

Sophia pulled him into a hug, breaking down into tears. Andrew leaned back, wiped his hand over his face. He released a breath he did not know he had been holding. All the pain and sadness was briefly replaced by the joy of having his best friend back in the same room as him. He hid his smile behind his fingers as he sat down with crossed legs.

"Tell me about what's going on with you," said Zach, breaking his hug with Sophia.

Sophia bit her lip. "Um—Zach…"

Zach smiled sadly. "I know about Rebecca and Nathaniel. My mom told me about them. I also know about William's death—and your dad's. Soph, I'm so sorry."

Sophia waved aside his apology. "It sucks, but I'm—there're been bigger things to worry about. Your dad's actually helped me a lot. He holds regular therapy sessions when he's here."

"He's not always here?" asked Zach, frowning.

Sophia and Andrew looked at each other quickly.

Andrew started. "The—um—we…"

"Zach…" tried Sophia.

Zach nodded, understanding. "You've been I can't be trusted."

"No!"

"We do trust you."

Zach ran his fingers through his hair and pulled a face. "God, I need a shower."

"The showers are great. Something to do with the water pressure," said Andrew, jumping onto any topic to keep things from deteriorating.

"Was it Anakin?" asked Zach moving away from them.

Andrew shook his head. "Er…"

Sophia tried to grab his hand, but Zach brushed her aside. "Zach," pleased Sophia.

Zach jumped to his feet. "I'm going to shower," he declared.

Zach barely left the room when someone knocked on the door. Andrew stood up and answered it. Sarah and Suyana stood at the door. The expression on their faces switched from worry to stern. Andrew noted Sarah stood a good distance away from her mother.

"Where's Zach?" asked Suyana authoritatively.

Sophia, brow furrowed, answered, "He's gone to take a shower. You couldn't have missed him."

Suyana raised an eyebrow and gave her daughter a knowing look. "See."

"It means nothing, mother," hissed Sarah. She turned to the two teens. "When did he leave?"

"Like thirty seconds before you knocked," said Andrew. "You should've passed him in the hallway."

Sarah folded her arms. "Can you tell him we're looking for him? We'll be in the den."

Andrew and Sophia nodded, trying to hide their concern.

Zach strode across the clearance, fire ball in hand. He closed the distance between him and his target in a few steps. He raised the hand with the fire ball back and up, readying to throw it. He bared his teeth and growled.

"You should be quieter if you wished to catch me unawares, Zachary," said Anakin warily, not turning around.

Zach threw the fire ball, missing his uncle. The fire ball hit a small bush sending up in flames. He balled his hand into fists. "LOOK AT ME!"

Anakin turned around.

"You're using my friends! Having them spy on me," accused Zach heatedly.

Anakin kept his face neutral. "I told them to be circumspect in the information they give you. I do my own spying, though."

Zach flicked his wrist. A pumpkin sized hole exploded in the tree truck behind Anakin. The older witch did not even flinch. "I'm not working for Lucifer. Lucifer got my girlfriend killed. He is evil. I hate him."

Anakin nodded serenely. "You can hate him and still do his bidding. Do you really think Isis likes him? No, she's waiting for the opportunity to bring him down."

"HE GOT EVE KILLED!" roared Zach.

Anakin blinked. "And?"

Zach, shaking with rage, charged his uncle. He threw a punch catching Anakin on the chin. Anakin stumbled backward, dropping his cane. Zach fell forward. Anakin caught and steadied him. He turned his head and spat out a blob of saliva and blood.

"Do you need to hit me again?" asked Anakin, rubbing his chin.

Zach seethed at the lack of a reaction. "I want to beat you into a bloody pulp."

Anakin raised his hands up. "Go ahead. I won't stop you."

Zach bent down and picked up the cane. "Fuck you."

"Zach, you are angry. You are furious with me. I deserve it. I won't deny it. What Uriel and I put you through is unforgivable. Take your revenge."

Zach tossed the cane at his uncle who caught it easily. "Why are you using that thing?"

Anakin rubbed his thigh. "I got hurt a few months ago. It was healing. Then I decided to fracture reality. A bum leg is the price I pay."

"For rescuing me," said Zach tersely.

Anakin nodded once. "Yes."

Zach unfurled his fists stiffly. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

"Why are you out here?"

Anakin gestured at the scenery. "You needed to talk to me privately."

Zach dragged his tongue between his teeth, thinking. "You—knew?"

"It's something your father would have done. He was always very protective of everyone. He despised when anyone else was used to get at him. When he figured out who did it there was always hell to pay," explained Anakin with a small smile.

"Where's my dad?"

"He's helping strengthen some of the traps we have set up should anyone try and overcome the Compound. It's something we've put off for too long." Anakin grimaced. "Mind if I conjure us some seats?"

Zach gestured his consent as he paced. "Did you know about Eve?"

Anakin froze. "Know what about Eve?"

"You did! That's why you planned the rescue." Zach's voice cracked.

Anakin studied his nephew, gaging his emotional state. "No. I already had planned to rescue you before I knew about Eve's pregnancy. The pregnancy, though, convinced Uriel of the need to remove you and her from Lucifer's influence."

Zach bit his cheek to keep from breaking down. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you try harder to save her? How could you let her die?"

Anakin bent forward, resting his elbows heavily on his knees. "Zach, I tried everything I could. There was nothing to do done. Whatever poison those creatures use ate away her magic. It fed on magic."

Zach shook his head. "I can't—stop!"

Anakin leaned back and sighed. "I am sorry for your loss. I'm sorry there wasn't more I could do. I'm sorry I failed to see this."

Zach threw his head back and breathed out through his teeth. He blinked rapidly, trying to stem the tears. "I—I—I d—d—don't kn—n—know…"

"You rely on your family and friends. It'll be painful. There'll be moments when you don't think you can take another breath because of the hurt. Your heart will feel like it's been crushed under a steamroller for awhile. It'll never go away, not completely, but you've still got people who love you. Let them be there for you."

"Mike…"

Anakin hushed him. "Now isn't the time."

Zach paled and squeezed his hands together. "I need to—I can't just…I did it."

Anakin jerked; his worse fears being confirmed. "Zach…"

"I was having a mental breakdown. I kept seeing Peter. Do you know who Peter was? No, never mind, it doesn't matter. I started by just reading books. I knew all the stories. My parents and Uncle Chris kept very quiet on magic while I grew up, but they always warned us against trying it. They knew we'd eventually be faced with loss. They knew we'd face the choice of using it or not."

Zach stopped pacing, looking down at his feet. "I broke down. I brewed the potions, telling myself they'd never work. That way I could tell myself I tried. Maybe, it would be enough to let me get some sleep, but it did work. The potion worked. The spell was easy. I brought him back."

"Was it Lucifer's idea?" asked Anakin quietly.

"Yes—no—I don't know. He suggested it. He gave me the books, but I refused. Eventually, he gave up."

Anakin closed his eyes. "About the same time, Peter showed up?"

"Er…" Zach stumbled over his response. "Yeah…oh God."

A breeze picked up. Zach wrapped his arms around himself.

"You should head back to the house," said Anakin mechanically.

"He meant for this to happen. For me to bring back Michael. For you to be injured like that," muttered Zach in shock.

Anakin snorted. "He is not so cunning. I think he planned for you to use necromancy. He needed you on his side. Necromancy is the darkest form of magic. I don't think he cared who you brought back. He certainly had no idea I'd try and break you out of a limbus circus."

"But what if he did? What if this is all part of his plan?" asked Zach, voice increasing in pitch.

Anakin struggled back onto his feet. He hobbled up to Zach. His leg felt hot, stiff, and painful. "We'll deal with the fallout. What is done is done."

"It could've killed you. It might still kill you."

"Getting you back was worth it, Zach. Think nothing of it. Let me worry about Lucifer and his plans. It's why I was brought back," said Anakin, wrapping an arm around his nephew.

Zach licked his lips. "Anakin…"

"Lucifer is a master manipulator. He is scary smart. There is a very good chance he is going to win. All we can do is make it harder for him. Worrying about stuff like this doesn't help us, Zach. I'm not dead. We're more than prepared if he tries to attack us here. There's nothing more you can do about it. Not at the moment. Go back. Spend time with your friends."

Zach nodded and silently orbed away, leaving his uncle alone in the woods. He reappeared in the bathroom. He turned on the shower. Someone pounded on the door.

"What?"

The door jiggled and Andrew walked in followed by Sophia. He closed the door behind him. Both teens were pale as sheets.

"Where were you?" asked Andrew and Sophia at the same time.

Zach waved a hand around the room. "Here."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "No, you weren't. We've been waiting out there. Where were you?"

"I went to talk to my uncle," said Zach, not seeing a reason to lie.

Andrew, eyes wide, said, "Your mom and grandmother are looking for you."

Zach grimaced. It could not be good news. "Ok. I'll go find them as soon as I shower."

Andrew narrowed his eyes. "Promise?"

"Yeah."

Sophia nodded, satisfied. "Fine. We'll be right outside." She dragged Andrew out before the boy could protest.

Zach slumped against the cool sink. His mind raced with a million thoughts. He wished he was back in his bathroom on the island with Eve. It was difficult to imagine how much simpler life was then.

* * *

Alexander Gordon Love was bored. Because of the threat of an imminent attack on the Compound, the children were relegated to remaining inside or very close to the cabin. Unfortunately for him, that meant being stuck in a room with a bunch of girls. There was only so much playing with dolls he could do. He did not consider the idea of playing with dolls something wrong, but he preferred more active games or video games. He wished David could come over, but his new friend was off doing something with his parents.

He stood in front of the sole window in the room and gazed out longingly at the scenery outside. The wind was picking up, the telltale signs of a storm brewing. He was about to turn away when he spotted a figure emerge from the woods. As the figure approached the house, he recognized her as his aunt Sarah's mother. The old woman scared him a bit, not that he would admit it to any one. He did think being able to turn into a bear was very cool.

Suyana continued to walk up to the house. Alexander frowned. Something was wrong. There was not a lot of snow left on the ground. The days were warming up lately. He knew the little snow left was dirty but none of it should be red. There was a trail of red snow in Suyana's wake. She was holding one of her arms tightly against her chest. Some dark liquid stained the front of her clothes. Alexander fell backward in his haste to backpedal from the window. He had to get her help. He knew when someone was gravely injured.

"Alex?" asked Peggy from nearby.

Alex ignored her and rushed out of the room. He knew his grandmother was in the kitchen. She was helping his great-aunt Piper make some snacks for everyone. He burst through the door, heart hammering. He looked wildly around the kitchen.

"Alex, sweetie?" called his grandmother Phoebe.

Alex cleared his throat suddenly finding it difficult to speak. His wide eyes were all the adults needed to see to know.

"Where?" asked Piper, jumping into action mode.

Alex pointed behind him. Phoebe embraced him and comforted him, bending down to his level. He gulped, surprised by how much his hand was shaking.

"Sweetie, it's ok. You're ok," reassured Phoebe.

"Did someone hurt themselves?" asked Piper, gathering up some pretty colored vials.

Alex shook his head. He pursed his lips. Hands balled into determined fists he opened his mouth. "Outside." His voice sounded like a baby's to his ears. He hated how rattled he was.

Piper gave Phoebe a look. Phoebe nodded. Alex watched Piper stride out of the kitchen. Phoebe slowly stood up.

"Let's go back to the living room," she said gently.

Alex blinked. His legs felt like jelly. If his grandmother had not been holding him he was sure he would collapse to the ground. He should not feel like this. He was a witch. He was Charmed. He was supposed to be able to face down demons and defend the innocent. Yet the sight of blood rendered him mute and dumb.

They reached the living room. Most of the rest of the kids had not even noticed he had left. Peggy and Paxton were at the window. Peggy turned around the moment. Her face was white.

"Grandma…" her voice failed her.

Phoebe frowned. She looked out the window and gasped. "All of you, let's go back to the kitchen."

No one moved.

"Now, guys! Let's go."

Some of the younger children jumped at the tone. All of them recognized the urgency in the usually very calm and loving Charmed One's voice. They all obeyed and followed Phoebe out of the room, just as Anakin came rushing down the hallway.

"Get them into the basement," yelled Anakin, easily dodging around the frightened girls.

"Your mom…" started Phoebe, voice cracking.

Anakin did not stop running. "I know!"

Anakin sprinted to the front door, cane forgotten. He paused briefly at it, preparing himself. He opened the thick wood door, and the sound of war roared around him. A familiar rhinoceros-sized rusty colored wolf flew across the ground with a battle cry reverberating from her fur-covered chest. Anakin followed her progress across the open ground toward an area just outside of the woods. There stood a truly terrifying shadowy figure. The blond witch felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Annie!" cried Piper.

Anakin jumped into action. He tore his eyes off the furious fight happening in the distance and searched for his mother. She was lying up against the porch, holding the head of Suyana in her lap. The greater portion of the elderly woman's left arm was missing. Straggly shredded ruined bits of bloody skin, tendons, and flesh hung uselessly at her side. He could see she was not long from this world.

"She lost so much blood," said Piper monotonously.

Anakin looked the woman in the eyes. Ursine brown met blazing green and blue. She opened her mouth and coughed weakly. "I—ur—um…"

Anakin held out his hands, willing the warm golden glow into life. The blood at the wound sizzled and the woman screamed. He dropped his hands. "Shit."

"You can't heal a naagolishii wound," breathed the woman through gritted teeth. "I'm dead. My daughter needs your help."

Anakin glanced over his shoulder. The wolf yelped. The naagolishii hit it on the back with an arm as thick as a tree trunk. He shuddered.

"Where are your brothers and sister?"

Anakin stared at his mother. "You need to get into the basement. It'll seal itself once your inside."

"Where are…" started Piper again.

"Mom. You need to go. You can't fight that thing. I'll keep my siblings safe. Go. The kids are already there with Phoebe. Almost everyone else is in town, gathering supplies. Find the Matt and his friend and get into the basement."

Piper looked down at Suyana. The two matriarchs had never been friends, but they respected one another. "What about…" her voice trailed off.

"Leave me. I prefer to die under the sky than hold up in a moldy basement," said Suyana defiantly.

"We can save you."

Suyana spat out a wade of blood and scoffed. "No. You really can't Piper. This is my family's magic, not yours. Do as your son says."

Piper covered his mouth. "I'm sorry." She carefully lifted Suyana's head up and slipped out from beneath her.

Anakin nodded. "Go, Mom."

Piper pulled herself along the railing. "I…"

"GO!" commanded Anakin.

She stumbled back into the house right as the wolf let out a blood-curdling squeal.

Anakin looked down at Suyana. "I can ease your passing."

"Leave me. Save my daughter. That'll make my passing easier."

Anakin nodded again. He lowered both hands to his side with practiced deliberation. His right hand lit up with pure white flames; his left was covered in a thick inky darkness. He took a few steps from the house and turned around to face it. He raised both hands above his head and muttered a few words. The white flames and black ink sprung off his hands and covered a mottled dome over the house. Satisfied with his protections, he closed his eyes. Sadness overtook him for a moment.

Sarah's very human scream broke him out of his momentary daze. The naagolishii had managed to force Sarah to transform back into a human. It backed her into a corner. Anakin blinked and appeared between it and Sarah. He glared at the creature and flicked his wrists. The creature flew backward and collapsed into a formless mound of dark brown and silver jelly.

Anakin checked on Sarah quickly, blushing slightly. It had been a while since he had been around a naked woman. He could not see any wounds and averted his gaze to give her some modesty.

"The ward will let you through."

Sarah gripped onto his shoulder tightly. "I'm not going anywhere. Give me a moment. I'll transform again."

The jelly mass screeched.

"We don't have a moment. Can you sense either of my brothers or Prue?" Anakin asked keeping an eye of the naagolishii.

"They're not on protected land."

"Ok—o—k…" Anakin breathed.

Sarah stepped up to his side. "How?" she asked sadly.

Her voice nearly broke him. "Sarah…"

"Don't say it, Anakin. I'm not going anywhere."

Any further conversation had to wait. The naagolishii figured out its next attack. The brown in the jelly faded, sinking into the growing pool of silver. The silver started to take form. Thick sheets of fur rippled across the surface of the blob. The blob expanded in sections, taking over more ground. It stood up on powerful legs. Its arms were long enough to let its knuckles hang below its knobby knees. The silver fur covered is wide back, legs, and arms, leaving its muscular chest bare. Its flat face was that of a mountain gorilla complete with the massive pair of canines.

"Joined the fight, twice born?" it asked in a voice like nails across a chalkboard.

Anakin shoved Sarah behind him. "Zach."

The creature before him opened its mouth and laughed. "Zach?" mocked the creature. "Zach is gone. That mortal was too whiny."

Anakin met its murderous gaze. Its eyes were still the sky blue nephew inherited from his father. "Zach, you can fight this."

"Did you not hear me? The witch whose power unleashed me on the world is no more," taunted the beast.

Anakin hands twitched, wanting to cover his ears against the assault of its voice. "You are not a match for me. I will do what I must."

Sarah whimpered behind him.

The naagolishii flickered out a forked tongue and smiled. "Fear tastes so sweet. Almost as satisfying as death. How is the old one?"

Anakin ignored it. "Zach, you need to fight. You can fight. Come back to us."

"THE WITCH IS DEAD," roared the naagolishii.

Anakin took a step forward, arms at his side. "I can help. Let me help."

The naagolishii shook its head and charged forward. Anakin raised a hand lazily and the air between them shimmered. The creature crashed into something invisible and solid. Its form rippled for a brief moment. In the center surrounded by a thick brown cocoon lay a blond haired terrified child.

"Zach!" gasped Sarah.

She stepped around Anakin. The naagolishii struck out. Anakin threw out his hand too late. A gray fist easily twice the size of basketball hit Sarah straight in the stomach. The air left her body as she collapsed over the fist. She fell to the floor. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her mouth. Anakin's telekinetic blast lifted the creature off its feet and slammed it through the first row of trees.

Anakin dropped to his knees and held out his hands. "Please, dear God," he begged.

The golden glow lit up Sarah. She coughed and took a deep breath. Eyes fluttered open. Anakin laughed in relief.

"Ow," moaned Sarah, rolling onto her side.

Anakin smiled. "You're alive at least."

Sarah blinked. "That was Zach."

"His inner child. The last part of any soul to be corrupted."

"Can you save him?" asked Sarah, still coughing.

Anakin knew it was a foolish hope. "I'm going to try."

The monstrous gorilla flew out of the woods. Anakin deflected its charge, sending tumbling over them. It caught itself and charged forward. Sarah jumped forward, transforming almost instantaneously back into a wolf. It was a fluid transition. There was no bones breaking and skin ripping. She simply became a wolf in midair. The two giant animals clashed into each other. Sarah ripped at its neck. It punched and tried to rip off limbs.

Anakin was left watching the brawl. He could not risk attacking for fear of hitting Sarah. Sarah caught one of its hands in her jaws and bit down. The naagolishii bellowed a curse and whipped the arm high, throwing Sarah off it. Sarah sailed high into the air, but not without a trophy. The naagolishii was missing two fingers. It glared at Anakin. Anakin glared back and attacked. Initially, there was a resistance. He plowed through it and found a sucking void. He tried to retreat but the pull was too strong. He fell into the endless darkness.

* * *

A ruined stone castle sat surrounded by a dry up moat in a forested valley. The snow-capped mountains surrounding the valley were covered in black foreboding clouds. Ash flittered through the air, covering leaves and branches in thick piles of white and gray. The smell of burnt flesh and hair permeated the whole area only overpowered by the wafts of death's stench.

The castle loomed over the forest, casting a dark shadow over the already depressing landscape. Flames flickered in some of the broken windows. Someone still lived in the castle. Someone never seen but always feared by the now dead villagers. The small village at the castle's doorstep was the source of the ashes. It had been set ablaze some time previous. All that remained were the rotting half-burnt corpses of its occupants.

Still, the forest was not void of life. Calls of creatures on the hunt echoed through the undergrowth. Shadows hid the passage of a creature with the feline grace of a leopard. It stalked its prey in silence. Vultures and crows followed in the wake of the predators, knowing death was imminent.

In the darkness, rushed a skinny boy. He had blond hair and blue eyes. His clothes were in tatters. Cuts and scars marred his pale skin. Ribs pressed dangerously close the surface with each breath. His stomach growled, but the boy continued to run, barefoot.

"Zach," echoed a distant voice from across the ice and snow.

The boy paused for a moment, frowning. The excited yips of the creatures pursuing it urged him onward. He had no weapon. His scrawny frame boasted little muscle mass. All he had was distance, and he was losing even that. The creatures had picked up his scent. He ran.

A stream cut through the undergrowth. It gave him a freedom and less chance of tripping over something. It also provided those advantages to his pursuers. He crossed over it and dove back into the thick undergrowth. A thorn caught his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. A vine wrapped around his feet, and he crashed to the floor. The wind knocked out of him. He would have cried out if he could.

"Zach."

Again, the voice surrounded him. He looked around wildly while trying to scramble back onto his feet. He did not know the name. He did not know his name. The voice gave him hope for an unknown reason. He sprinted forward to meet a cliff face. He turned and ran parallel to it. The bushes and vines were thinner here.

A creature, shaggy and canine, burst out of the brush in front of him. He skidded to a halt and dashed away. The creature hurried after him. He knew they were surrounding him. He could not stop and think. The thing was nipping at his heels. A patch of mud caught him by surprise. He slipped and fell.

The creature was upon him before he even moved. Its claws carved open his back. He rolled and squirmed the best he could. He punched wildly. Its teeth turned his hand into fleshy ribbons. He yelled.

"BE GONE!"

The creature yelped and vanished. The boy turned over slowly, covered in mud and knowing only pain. He passed out.

He awoke to the sound of a crackling fire. He tried to move and found his arms covered in bandages made of ripped clothing. He blinked and the room came into focus. It was a hovel. He lay on a simple bed made of straw. A simple white top and brown leather pants lay folded on the makeshift bedside table. He sat up and cringed. The movement reminded him of the wounds on his back.

"I wouldn't move just yet. The salve hasn't had time to set."

A man with gray hair stepped into the hovel, carrying a bundle of sticks in his arms. He deposited his collection near the fire. He had to stoop in order to fit in the hovel. He knelt down in front of the bed. The boy flinched away from him.

The man smiled and raised his hands up. "It's ok. I won't hurt you. My name is Leo. Leo Wyatt."

"Leo," croaked the boy with a frown. The name sounded familiar.

Leo nodded. "Yes. I found you in the woods. Are you from the village?"

The boy shook his head. He knew of the village. He had seen it on fire. He was not from the village. "I…" he fell silent and rubbed his throat.

Leo turned a bit and reached over for a jug and a dirty cup. "Here, take a drink."

The boy took the cup and sniffed the liquid. He took a sip and smiled with relief from his constant thirst. He drained the cup, spilling some. He sheepishly handed the cup back to Leo. Leo smiled and refilled the cup.

"Take it slow. You don't need to choke on the stuff."

The boy took the cup and sipped on it. "What?"

Leo replaced the jug on the old round table. "It's called Ambrosia."

"Ambro?" The boy looked quizzically into the cup.

"Ambrosia," repeated Leo slowly. "An old friend of mine gave me the recipe. Said I may have use for it some day."

The boy took another sip. The liquid was sweet and filled him with a warmth he had never known. He had always been cold. All he knew was cold.

Leo smiled. "Do you mind if I check on your bandages?"

The boy felt wary again. Accepting a drink was one thing, but letting a stranger near him felt wrong. The man, Leo, had found him unconscious. He could have left him for dead. Slowly he nodded his head.

Leo bent forward and moved gradually, giving his charge ample time to see what he was going to do. He checked on the bandage on the boy's hand first. He moved on to the smaller cuts and nicks. Finally, he helped the boy turn around so he could check his back.

"It won't be pretty, but it'll heal. There's no sign of infection. We'll have to change the bandages in the morning."

The boy turned back around to face him. He looked over the room. "Where?"

Leo paused, deliberating over the meaning of the question. "Where do I get the material? I have a shed out back. There was an old lady from the village who would bring me supplies. I was a healer back during the war."

The war was not something the boy knew anything about. What Leo said made sense, though. The man knew his way around wounds and salves. He had no memory of healers from his home. He did not remember home.

Leo sat with is back against the wall. "It seems even the war was not enough. Something has retaken the castle. I knew the family who lived there. They were good people. I heard their boy survived the massacre."

The boy closed his eyes, feeling tired. The warmth of the fire and the drink lulled him into a restful sleep. He woke with a start some hours later. Leo was sleeping on a fresh pile of straw nearer the door. The fire had died down. He wondered what had woken him. Then he heard the scratching. Something was outside. He whimpered.

Leo shifted. "Don't worry. They can't get inside. Not yet."

It did not make sense to the boy. He lay in the bed, dead still. He listened to the creature continue to scratch. It yipped and sniffed right on the other side of the wall. A deeper far off growl gave the creature pause. It left.

"See," whispered Leo. "Go back to sleep."

When the boy woke again it was morning and Leo was not in the house. He gingerly got out of bed. The clothes on the bedside table were his size. He pulled them on and walked to the door. He started to open it and heard voices.

"He is weak," said Leo.

Another man's voice said something the boy could not make out. Leo must have said something else, but again it was too soft for him to hear. He cracked the door some more. Leo stood a little way off with a man. The stranger leaned on a staff made of the whitest wood the boy had ever seen. He had a heavy traveling cloak on and the hood pulled up obscuring his face.

"Yes, I understand, but…" The man cut off Leo.

The man whispered a few words.

Leo closed his eyes and nodded. "Alright."

The man nodded and left down the path leading up to the small hovel. The boy ducked back inside before Leo turned around. He waited in the hovel breathing in shuddering gasps. He curled up on himself in the corner, hands over his head. He knew he could not trust anyone. Someone entered the building sometime later. The boy did not look up. He tried to stay as still and small as possible.

"Uhh—are you ok? Sorry." Leo touched him. The boy jerked away. "What's wrong?" asked Leo in a compassionate voice.

"Saw you," muttered the boy, trying to shrink further into the corner.

"Right. You saw me talking to that man?"

""Yes."

Leo sighed. "You don't have to worry about him. He's—he's gone."

The boy uncurled a bit. "Gone?" He looked up at Leo quizzically.

Leo nodded. "Yes, he—he is gone."

He uncurled filly, still wary. "Gone where?"

"I don't know," answered Leo.

The boy noted it was the first time Leo had lied to him.

Leo pointed at the table. There was a set of wooden bowls on it. "I made you some porridge. It's cold by now. Um, I feel a bit awkward asking now, but do you have a name?"

The boy frowned. "Yes—but don't know."

"What do you want your name to be?" asked Leo kindly.

Zach looked around the room for inspiration. He had been alone for so long. He had never had a need for a name. In the end, he shrugged, giving up.

Leo fetched a bowl and a spoon from the table and handed it to him. "What about Taylor?"

The name felt familiar but wrong. The boy chewed on a spoonful of cold porridge. The porridge was bland and too thick and lumpy. He wanted another cup of Ambrosia to wash it down. He did not know if he could ask for a drink. He felt awkward and kept silent.

Leo crinkled his nose. "No, not Taylor?"

"Not name," said the boy.

"Matthew?"

The boy gasped. It felt like a nail was driven into his heart. He violently shook his head. Leo reached out and laid his hand on his shoulders to steady him. He spilled the remains of his porridge.

"That's fine. That's fine. It's all ok," said Leo patiently. "We can figure it out later. How about we take a look at your bandages, and then you can help me clean up this mess."

The day passed in silence. It was twilight by the time the boy found himself alone again. He liked being around Leo and followed the man around as he did his daily chores, helping where he could. Leo had gone off to bath in the nearby stream. The boy gathered firewood for the night.

"Zach," called the voice.

The boy dropped the armful of dried twigs. He spun around. The voice sounded closer than before, more desperate.

"You can fight it."

The boy craned his neck, searching for the source of the voice. It surrounded him, but it did not disturb the birds in the trees. He wondered if he was just hearing things.

"Let me help."

The boy blinked. The man from the morning stood in front of him, leaning heavily on his pure white staff. The boy fell on his bottom and screamed.

The man looked down at him. He had two pale cat-like eyes. "Time is short, young one. The thing you fear has taken shelter in the castle. It is wounded. Your time is near. Act or all can be lost."

The boy backed up, pulling himself over mud and fallen leaves.

The man reached inside his traveling cloak and produced a simple leather necklace. On the end of the necklace hung a massive yellowed and chipped tooth. The man bent down and held out the necklace. "This was yours before the thing claimed it. Time for you to take it back."

The man disappeared, leaving behind the necklace. The boy stayed still for a minute, waiting for the man to reappear. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him. He crawled forward and picked up the necklace. Warmth washed over him the moment he touched it. It reminded him of how he felt after taking the first sip of Ambrosia. Without thinking, he pulled the necklace over his head. It hung comfortably around his neck.

Leo walked out o the woods. He looked down at the boy. His eyes found the necklace. "He found you."

The boy touched the ancient tooth. "Mine?"

"Not yet," sighed Leo. "Come on. Dinner and bed."

That night the creatures came again. The boy held tightly to the necklace as he listened to them circle the hovel. Something heavy landed on the forest floor. The creature bayed. Something growled, low and terrible. Bones snapped. Creatures yelped and whined. The boy stopped breathing, straining to hear more and fearing what he might hear. Something slammed into the hovel. The boy jumped and stifled a scream. One beast roared in triumph. The forest fell silent. Only after everything settled did the boy notice Leo sitting in the window with a pained look on his moonlit face.

In the morning, the boy snuck out of the hovel, careful to not wake Leo. He found five bodies of those canine creatures that had chased him. Their throats ripped out. Two had their stomachs eviscerated. The one that had hit the hovel the night before had been partially eaten.

Leo stepped out of the hovel. "This will call attention to us."

The boy frowned not understanding him.

"We needed more time," said Leo, looking up into the trees.

"Time?"

Leo lowered his gaze and nodded. "To train you. To prepare you."

"Me?" asked the boy, worried.

"What is your name?"

The boy shrugged. He had a name once.

Leo bent down and stared at him. "What is your name? Think. What is your name?"

The boy shook his head. It hurt to think about it. He touched the necklace.

Leo grabbed the necklace. "This belonged to a boy just like you. You like it. Prove it is yours. What is your name?"

The boy pulled back, but Leo held firm. "Think."

The boy remembered what the voice had said the day before. It was the same tone Leo used now. He squeezed his eyes shut. A picture of a little girl flashed across his eyelids. She had brown hair and the most welcoming and innocent brown eyes. She spotted him and smiled so broadly he feared it might split her face in two.

"Pax," he gasped.

Leo shook his head. "Pax?"

He nodded. "Sister."

"Yes, she was your baby sister."

The boy tightened his grip on the talisman. "Matt—brother?"

Leo shook his head. "He was your cousin. He's in trouble."

"Cousin—like brother. Best friend," struggled the boy.

In the distance, something exploded. The bits of the sky visible through the leafy canopy lit up in angry shades of red and orange.

"I WILL FIND YOU!" This voice was cold and hungry.

The boy clutched his ears. "No. No. Run."

Leo shook his head again. "You can't run. Who are you?"

The forest erupted in movement. Creatures fled from the direction of the castle.

"No name," said the boy desperately. "No name. No name!"

Trees were uprooted around them. The boy looked around whimpering.

Leo caught his attention. "You need to remember."

Out of the darkness charged three more of the canine creatures. They were lanky and feral. They snapped and yipped, ready for a meal. Leo stood up calmly and produced a shining blade. One of the creatures lunged forward. Leo swung down. Its severed head rolled passed the boy's knees.

"You can't have him," declared Leo.

The cold hungry voice echoed around them. "You are no savior. A figment. A dying hope."

Leo punched the next canine in the nose, sending it yelping away in pain. The third caught him by the ankle. He yelled and sliced down with his blade. The creature let go and retreated. He struggled to remain standing. The two wild dogs circled.

"Remember," cried Leo, pouncing forward.

He caught one dog by luck. He skewered it through the heart. The last dog, however, had a clear opening to his back. It jumped on top of him. Leo went down. The dog snapped at his neck and head. It pinned his sword arm with one paw. The fight was over instantly. Its jaws made quick work of Leo's skull.

"Let me help," whispered a voice.

The creature turned to finish off the boy. He scrambled backward in a vain attempt to get away. There was nowhere to run. The forest was engulfed in shadow. Only this clearing with the hovel remained vacant of the darkness.

"HELP," yelled the boy. "NO!"

The creature sprang forward. The boy watched in horror. Time slowed. Images burst around him. Two boys laughing. A girl and boy sharing a first kiss in the shadow of her house. Three friends sitting in a park talking. A young teen sitting on a bed crying, begging for acceptance. A grandmother hugging her grandson. A proud father and mother. His mother and father. His family.

"Zach. My name is Zach."

A large feline crashed into the leaping canine. The cat's fur shifted from black to pure white. It settled on a black coat with white rosettes like a leopard. The leopard swiped at the canine. Its paw caught the dog in the middle of its back, breaking it. It opened its jaws revealing large and sharp teeth. It ripped out the dog's windpipe. Facing Zach, the leopard growled. Zach recognized the green and blue eyes.

"Anakin."

The leopard stepped forward, but a large figure dripping with shadows threw him aside. Zach screamed as Anakin fell into the vortex, lost. The shadowy creature chuckled and rolled its neck. The shadows retreated, revealing the man beneath.

"No."

The man smiled. "Come now, Zachy, who else would it be?"

"No!" yelled the boy in shock and horror.

* * *

AN: A cliffhanger...I am a bit evil, I know. What did you think? Things are only going to keep happening.

Thanks for reading!


	11. Fall To Lose It All

AN: Next chapter!

* * *

FALL TO LOSE IT ALL

Richard's room was the smallest in the cabin; he had chosen it specifically because of that fact. He was used to cramped living conditions. At school, the dorms were uncomfortably small. During semesters abroad, they usually stayed in the spare bedroom of a family connected to the school. Even at home, his bedroom was barely large enough to have a bed and a small desk. The first time he ever had space in a bedroom was living at the Manor. There was another reason he wanted a small room. It made him feel less alone.

He grew up with a constant companion. He never had to do anything alone. He always had his twin brother. They had done everything together. Sure, they had different interests. He liked photography and art; Michael preferred sports and cars. Michael had been the one person he knew he could turn to for anything at any time. The feeling went both ways, or at least, he hoped it did.

Michael's death brought a gaping hole into his life. He was surrounded by family and friends and still felt alone. He knew he could not face a room that reminded him of the fact he was alone in the world. So he chose the cramped corner room, which could have easily passed for a linen closet aside for the window on one wall.

While others had slowly made the rooms their own, adding décor and changing the bedding, he left the room bare. The bedding was the same washed out grey sheets and comforter Sarah had provided him on their first night at the cabin. There was no desk, no place to put a picture frame or a computer. The built-in closet was just big enough to hold his meager wardrobe. He had never regretted his decision until now.

Beth stood by the shut door, arms folded. He wished there was more space between them, but he was backed against the opposite wall. He had been avoiding this conversation ever since Zach's rescue and the return of his brother. He was never big on confrontation. His new girlfriend looked peeved.

"You've been avoiding me," said Beth, hands on her hips.

Richard swallowed. "Can you—um—you know…"

Beth rolled her eyes and took a step further into the room. "Why, Rick?"

"Be—because—you—him…"

"Seriously?" Beth threw herself onto his bed. She bounced a few times and tucked a pillow under her head, staring up at him.

Richard stayed dead still, fearful any action on his part might set off a fight, an argument. He did not want an argument. He still wanted to be friends. The lump in his throat grew.

Beth closed her eyes. "Have you seen him?"

Richard slowly shook his head. "Not really."

"I haven't either, thanks for asking."

Richard frowned. He was certain his brother would want to see his girlfriend the moment their parents let him out of their sight. There were reasons for his brother to avoid him. He was partially to blame for Michael dying. He had gotten together with his girlfriend; they had been kissing on the porch when everyone had arrived back from the island. Richard knew his brother saw them together. He had tried to explain, but Michael had shoved him out of their parent's room.

Beth sat up. "Come on, sit."

Richard shivered and sat on the very edge of the single-sized bed. "Beth…"

Beth grabbed his arm and pulled him into her. He landed with his head in her lap. He felt his cheek and ears heat up. She bent down and kissed his cheek. "Rick, what's going on with you?"

He did not sit up. He did not want to lose what he felt would be the last contact he had with her. "I—um—I know—er—well, I know you love him still."

"And?"

He groaned. "I—understand if—if—you…"

Beth clicked and laughed. "You think I want to go back to him. Split up with you?"

He nodded against her jean-clad thigh, not trusting his ability to speak.

Beth stroked his cheek. "Babe, I love him. He was my first love. But," she bit her lower lip," but I—I love you. With Mike, it was intense and physical. I knew he loved me, but it never felt like it was forever. It was a puppy love. You—you've been amazing. We can talk. You're able to make me forget how horrible the world is at the moment. I'm not giving up on that. I love you too much to break up with you. Unless you…"

Richard bolted up, kneeling in front of her. "No! No, I don't want…"

He broke off and leaned forward and kissed her.

* * *

"Zach's a quiet guy," said Nathaniel.

The trees above him swayed gently in the breeze. Their fresh leaves rustled softly, glistening with a the occasional powdering of frost. He walked slowly, scuffing his shoes on the occasional pebble. Beside him, Kenny strode in silence, not looking at him.

Kenny arched an eyebrow, fiddling with something in his pocket. "He can be."

Nathaniel stopped and shoved his handed into the pockets of his grey jogging pants. "Has he—er…"

"He's not mentioned you or Rebecca while I've been around," finished Kenny gently. He shook his head. "Not that I've seen a lot of him. He hangs out with his mom mainly. It's only at breakfast and dinner that I've even spoken to him." Kenny rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like an intruder.

Nathaniel hunched his shoulders and stared off into the frost-flecked trees. "I was just getting used to being accepted."

Kenny kept silent.

"I know it's silly. He's come back—we just went to a funeral for his girlfriend. I know I shouldn't be worried. I know Becca loves me. It's just—sometimes, actually most of the time, there's a part of me that knows she loves him more." Nathaniel shuffled his feet.

Unsure how to react, Kenny copied his friend. Silence reigned, even the birds fell silent. Kenny fiddled with the ring in his pocket. He never went anywhere without it. It was a connection to a past he did not understand. It was a reminder he did not belong. He hated it.

"How's shape-shifting training going?" asked Kenny.

Nathaniel smirked briefly. "Nothing to it."

Kenny bobbed his head up and down, throwing ideas around in his head for something to talk about. He did not want to be asked anything about Zach and Rebecca. "So you can do it whenever you want?"

"It hurts like a motherfucker but yeah." The brown-haired teen sounded thankful for the change in topic.

Kenny pushed his thick black rim glasses further up his nose. "I always thought it'd be cool to be a werewolf. Not the bloodthirsty, crazed kind, but the ones that are still in control when they turn."

Nathaniel stepped in closer. "It kind of rocks. Plus, I'm a black panther. That's Rebecca's favorite animal."

They returned to the topic. Kenny silenced a groan. He knew he would have to say something. "You should just talk to her."

"Yeah right! Just tell my girlfriend I think she's going to go back to her ex," scoffed Nathaniel, kicking a small rock.

Kenny's eyes tracked the jagged stone's path. "I wouldn't phrase it quite like that, but aren't you supposed to be able to talk about stuff like that with your girlfriend? Isn't honesty and trust the two biggest parts of having a lasting relationship?"

Nathaniel pulled an annoyed face. "Heard anything from Amber?"

Kenny cast his eyes to the floor. "Nothing."

"That sucks, dude. Sorry. I'm sure she's fine, though."

Kenny shrugged. "You know she's been gone longer than we're together? I'm not even sure how to feel about it. Some days I'm so angry with her for leaving, for not sending a letter. Other days—I'm just praying she and her family are safe."

A nearby tree burst into bloom. Kenny and Nathaniel jumped.

"Sorry," muttered Kenny.

Nathaniel eyed the tree. "No worries, man."

The two eventually wandered back up to the house.

* * *

The black and white ward formed a solid semi-transparent dome over the cabin. The edges of the ward extended a foot or two beyond the porch. Despite Anakin's warning and orders, Piper was not about to lock herself in the basement. She did descend down the stairs to ensure all the younger children were inside. They were shaken and scared, but Phoebe was a master of distraction. She was entertaining most of them; some were even laughing when Piper entered the basement.

"Grandma Piper!" yelled Pippa excitedly.

Piper smiled broadly and opened her arms wide. Pippa ran over to the Halliwell matriarch and hugged her leg. Pippa's twin sister joined her. Piper bent down and hugged both girls. Her eyes drifted up to her sister. She could see the fear in Phoebe's eyes and knew Phoebe could see it in her eyes. They knew each other too well for them to hide something like that.

"I tried to call Paige and the others," said Phoebe extracting herself from the gathering of children.

Piper nodded. "Annie's put up some sort of ward over the cabin. He said there's an additional ward over the basement. Do you know about it?"

Phoebe's hand spasmed for a moment, searching for the comforting and familiar feeling of Coop's hand in her own. "Is he sure we need it?"

"Yes," said Piper. She lowered her voice. "Suyana is dead."

Phoebe closed her eyes. "No…"

Piper gasped down a sob. "Where are the teens?"

"Last I saw them—in the game room upstairs."

Piper nodded. "Alright, I'm going to find them."

Phoebe reached out and caught her hand. "Do we know…"

"No," said Piper firmly unwilling to entertain the dark thought.

She left the basement quickly and headed upstairs. The game room was empty. It was moments like these she really missed Leo. She felt the heartache every day. The loss of a soul mate was difficult to live with. Situations of action and loss were when she was reminded how heavily they relied on Leo as their whitelighter. She felt lost without him.

"Grandma?"

Piper jumped.

Matt stepped into the passageway from a room down the passage; eyes a bit puffy. "What's going on?"

Piper steadied her racing heart. "Are the others with you?"

Matt nodded, looking back into the room. "Yeah, they—um—have you looked outside?"

"There's a demon attacking," said Piper as evenly as she could. Her voice still shook. "We need you to come down to the basement."

"The basement?" asked Rebecca, stepping out from behind Matt. She was pale and did not look like she had been getting a lot of sleep.

Piper nodded, breathing in slowly. "It's got a few extra wards on it."

"I'm not holing myself up. Who's out there fighting?" asked Matt in the stubborn tone so much like his father.

Piper prayed for patience. Leo was always the one able to snap Chris out of his dogged streaks. "Annie's out there and Sarah. They'll be able to focus on the fight a lot better if they know you are all safe."

Matt narrowed his eyes. "What demon are they fighting?"

"I don't know," said Piper, hedging.

Rebecca ducked back into the room.

Piper walked a bit further down the passage, passing a bathroom. "Matt, please…"

Matt scrunched up his face. "We can fight, Grandma."

"Annie can handle it," reasoned Piper.

Rebecca and Sophia re-appeared with Beth. "We're going down. We're not much help in a fight."

Matt squeezed Sophia's shoulder. "Babe…" He said in a soft voice.

"We'll talk later," whispered Sophia.

Piper frowned as the two girls left quickly. "Matt?"

Matt shook his head. "It's nothing. The windows are all opaque. You can't see anything."

Piper sighed. "Anakin placed a ward…"

Matt interrupted her. "He's got a ward around the house, but he wants us in the basement? Nothing's breaking through that ward. Nothing but—is it Lucifer?"

Richard, Kenny, Andrew, and Danny all exited the room.

"Can't be…"

"…not possible…"

"Lucifer!"

Piper quieted them. "It's not Lucifer."

"Then what?" asked Matt seriously.

"Something strong," said Piper, dodging the question.

Nathaniel joined them, head hung low. Clearly it was not a good day for couples. Piper kept her observation to herself.

"Where's Mike?" asked Piper.

Richard answered, "no clue."

Piper frowned. "Rick…"

Matt jumped to his cousin's defense. "Mike's not really big on hanging out. He doesn't say anything to us. I think he went with the adults into town."

Piper shook her head. "Your mom wouldn't risk that."

The whole house shuddered.

"To the basement. NOW," commanded Piper.

"Grand…"

Piper glared at them. "NOW, BOYS!"

They left, but Matt lingered.

"Mike. What about Mike?"

Piper took a breath. "Can you sense him?"

Matt shook his head. "No, but I've never been able to since he returned. Maybe, Rick can."

Piper strode off in the direction of the stairs and the other teenagers, sweeping Matt along in her wake. She caught up to them at the bottom of the stairs. The house shook again. Windows shattered.

"Rick, can you sense your brother?"

Richard bowed his head in shame. "He's blocking me. Has been since he and Zach returned."

Piper pursed her lips in thought. "Alright, you go to the basement. I'll check the house."

"It'll go quicker with more of us," said Nathaniel timidly.

"No. I won't risk any of you. I'll be fine," refused Piper adamantly, sharing the Halliwell stubbornness. The boys slunk off in defeat. She waited and watched them leave before hurrying to find her grandson.

* * *

Zach, yes that was his name, woke up. His heart pounded in his small chest. It was beating so fast it hurt. He tried to rub his chest but discovered his hands were chained to the bitterly cold wall behind him. He shivered. He had always known the cold, but this room was colder than the dead of winter. He twisted his head, groaning as pain tinged all through his tiny body. He remembered the torture and the smile.

"You should save your strength," said a rough and broken voice in the darkness.

Zach froze.

The voice spoke again. "It's ok, Zach. It's me."

"Who?"

The voice laughed hollowly before it turned into a hacking cough. "Me. Annie."

"Annie?" Zach frowned, thinking hard. The forest returned. Out of the shadows of his hazy memory strode a large midnight feline with one green eye and one blue.

The man stifled his coughing fit. Zach could hear him struggling to catch his breath. He had heard people cough like that before. He remembered what normally happened to those people. He whimpered.

"Do not be afraid, Zach. You are strong. Stronger than he thinks. Stronger than you should have to be." The man coughed again. "You can beat this."

Zach shut his eyes against the tears. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. He wanted to be back in the warmth of the hovel. He wanted to be back with his grandfather. He remembered Leo, too, the kindly old healer. The first man he could recall to show him any sort of kindness. "You—cat."

The man remained silent for a moment. "I suppose."

"Suppose?"

The man sighed loudly. "I—it's more complicated than that."

"Clearly. Now, man," said Zach a little surer of himself.

Anakin chuckled. "I am a witch, or I was one."

Zach frowned. Magic was not unheard of. He knew magic existed, although he had never met a witch before, or had he. "Not witch?"

Another bout of wet coughs echoed in the darkness.

"I'm—our captor is more capable than I thought. He stripped me of my powers," said Anakin hoarsely.

Zach pondered the new information. He could tell Anakin was not telling him everything. He closed his eyes. He knew he must have met their captor. Shadows, all he remembered was shadows and screaming. His eyes snapped open.

"You—uncle…"

Zach wished the darkness would lift a little. He wanted to see the man. Slowly the black lifted. He was able to make out the figure of a man on the opposite wall. He too had his arms chained to the wall. He was bigger, older than Zach pictured him. He had short light hair.

Anakin looked directly at him. "I'm your uncle, yes."

"Leo. Granddad?"

Shifting slightly Anakin looked shocked to Zach. "Leo? You—you saw Leo?"

Zach nodded, unsure if Anakin noticed the action. The man appeared lost in his own world. "He look after me."

Anakin looked up. "Dad was always good at that."

"He dead," said Zach simply. The fact resonated in the chamber.

Sadly, slowly, Anakin nodded. "I know. What about your dad and mom?"

Zach swallowed. "Not sure. Can't remember."

"It's ok. Rest. We have time, I think."

Zach pulled against his chains. They held firm. "How?"

"What do you remember?" asked Anakin softly.

"Attack. Leo—d—dead. You. Storm. Dark. Shadows." Zach felt the fear overtaking him. His breath quickened. His heart jumped into his throat.

Anakin spoke louder. "Breathe. Zach, Breathe. Just breathe, Zachy."

"Zachy," gasped Zach. "You. You and Pax."

Zach could feel Anakin smile. He did not understand how. It was not normal.

Anakin groaned. "Think I broke a rib or two."

Zach ignored him. "You no know Pax."

"No. She was born after—after I…"

"Died," finished Zach.

Anakin's eyes flashed. "You remember that?"

Zach frowned. Anakin could not have died. He was right in front of him. He was chained to the wall. He shook his head. "Not. Wrong."

"No, Zach. It's not wrong. I died."

"How?"

Anakin wheezed. "I died when you were still very little. Then a year ago—I was brought back. You remember that?"

Zach wanted to clutch his head. The memories flickered. His mind raced. It was too much. He yelled. The castle shook.

"Ok, ok. Zach, it's ok," whispered Anakin.

Zach could hear him as if the man was right next to him. It did not make sense. His muscles ached, bringing tears to his eyes. The storm outside started up again. Nothing made sense. He knew Anakin died. He remembered the bright light. He remembered Anakin holding his hand, saving him from something. Eve. He gasped.

"No, no, no."

The world stilled. Footsteps echoed around them, hard and heavy.

Anakin struggled to stand. "Zach, breathe. It's all ok. Just breathe. Remember, you can beat him."

The door to the dungeon opened a crack. A shadowy figure stepped into the opening, backlit by a flickering torch. The figure was dressed in all black. Zach knew nothing of clothes, but even he knew the figure was dressed in the best cloths and fabrics. He stepped into the room, descending the few stairs.

"So, the boy has woken. What lies have you fed him?"

The figure lashed out and punched Anakin in the stomach. Zach yelled. Anakin spat out blood. The figure dismissed Anakin and approached Zach. Zach pulled back against the wall. The man's face was still clocked in shadows.

"Come, now, boy," said the man.

Zach sniveled softly.

The man turned back to Anakin. "I guess, you have not had much luck. Shall I release you so you can try some more? I do love this game."

Anakin slipped down the wall. "Zach," he moaned, "he's nothing. You can beat him."

The man laughed. It struck like ice in Zach's chest, freezing his heart. "The witch is dead. He was too weak. This is just the last futile and fearful gasp of a dead man."

Anakin eyes burned with hatred. Zach felt the heat and wondered how the man could not. The man turned his back on Anakin. The light from the torch in the passage illuminated the man's face. Zach inhaled in shock. It was impossible. It could not be true. The man, the monster in the castle, the most feared being in the entire valley was he.

"Suddenly remembered the truth, boy?"

Zach exhaled sharply. "You're not me."

The other Zach was taller than him. His blond hair was trimmed into a neat and regale haircut. His bright blue eyes were not sunken in their sockets from lack of sleep. He was not a scrawny little boy. He worked out and ate well. He held himself with a confidence and air of power Zach never possessed.

"No, I'm not you. I'm what your family never wanted for you. They wanted to keep you weak. They wanted to tame you. Protect the innocent. Ha. What a load of bullshit. With the power I possess, I deserve to be feared. I deserve to be revered."

Zach shook his head. "NO! No, power isn't meant for this. Not this. It's not for propping yourself up. It's meant to help. It allows you to protect those who can't protect themselves."

Anakin smiled weakly and nodded, catching Zach's eyes.

The man scoffed. "Lies fed to you by fools. What has protecting the innocent gotten you? Are you happy? Are you safe?"

Images of Rebecca. Matt smiling and laughing. Kenny pointing out a girl surreptitiously. Nights spent with Sophia and Andrew. His mom and dad. His grandmother. His family. Eve—Eve…

"Yes. There are days that suck. There are times the world knocks me down. I've lost people. Family. M-m-my baby." Zach's voice cracked. "I wouldn't change it. I won't be this. I won't let you be this."

The man laughed and his eyes turned pitch black. "You have no choice. I have your body. I have your power. I have your life. I AM YOU!"

The man struck. Zach dodged, his chains vanishing. The man's fist went through the wall. He yelled in fury and madness. His form contorted.

Anakin spoke loudly. "You can do this. Believe. Remember."

The man transformed into a monstrous gorilla-like creature. His eyes remained black obsidian. He roared, spit flying and dribbling from his mouth. Zach ducked the next blow and the next one. He kept backing up. He did not know how to fight. He could not win this. The beast grew.

"Zach. You must believe," said Anakin from the floor.

The beast turned on him. It raised a hand easily the size of a small boulder.

"NO!" screamed Zach.

Power rolled off him and knocked the creature. It lost its balance and missed Anakin, almost. It still struck a glancing blow. Anakin yelled in pain. His left shoulder hung longer than it should. The rest of the arm flapped at his side a useless bloody blob of flesh and shattered bone. Zach raced to his side.

"Annie," he breathed in concern.

Anakin gritted his teeth, face pale as a sheet. "Don't turn your back on it."

The creature twisted and shook, gathering its powerful limbs underneath it. Time stretched out as horror sank in, and it charged. Zach threw out his left hand balled into a fish. A telekinetic blast visibly poured out of him. The creature and the blast smashed together. For a moment it looked like the creature's momentum would overwhelm the blast. Abruptly movement shifted. Wide-eyed, the creature crashed through the remains of the wall Zach had been changed to. Anakin's chains vanished.

"What?"

Anakin breathed in short quick gasps. Beads of sweat covered his furrowed forehead. "You need to win."

Zach raised his hand to heal Anakin, but nothing happened.

"It won't work. It's all mental damage. Zach, we're in your mind." Anakin struggled to talk. His voice wavered and chocked.

"That thing—it's me," whispered Zach in shock.

"A part of you. Lucifer managed to unleash it. You need to beat it back. You can beat it. You must believe."

Zach stared at his uncle. Realization dawned on him. "I'm a naagolishii."

Anakin gulped and hissed. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes."

"You should kill me," said Zach quickly without emotion.

Anakin forced a laugh. It came out as a whimper. "Never. You can come back from this."

"I killed. Oh God! Please, no." Zach was not listening to his uncle. Images of death and destruction, real and imagined, staggered him.

Anakin tried to stand, cried out, and slumped back to the ground. He looked up at his nephew. "Zach. You didn't do anything. It did. Now, you need to defeat it. Lock it away. Destroy it."

"Who?" asked Zach in a shaky voice.

Anakin shook his head unwilling to answer. He knew the truth would devastate the young witch.

"TELL ME!" The castle shook.

Hesitant, still hoping he would not have to speak, Anakin opened his mouth. Slowly the name slipped passed his lips in barely more than a breath. "Suyana."

Zach ran his grimy fingers through his shaggy hair. His whole body shook with revulsion and disbelief. "Kill me."

Again, Anakin shook his head. More firmly he said, "No. I believe in you. You can beat this."

Zach stared down at his uncle, his dying uncle. He let out a stuttering breath. "I've messed up. This is all my fault."

Anakin kept silent, shaking his head. It hurt too much to speak. Zach bent down, sitting on his haunches. He looked his uncle in the eyes.

"You sacrificed everything to save the world. I used my powers to save myself from the guilt. This is the result."

Anakin gasped as the pain flared. "Zach, please, listen. None of this is a reflection on you. I've watched you grow up from afar. You have the best qualities from both your parents. You are a good person. This is all Lucifer, all of it…."

Anakin broke off. Something growled deep in the shadows of the destroyed wall. Both witches faced the wall, Zach standing up tall and defensively in front of his uncle. He set his jaw firm and took a deep breath. He caught the glimpse of movement. Zach raised a hand, conjuring a fire ball.

Coughing the older, more well kept, Zach stepped out of the darkness. He brushed off the dust from his black suit jacket with a look of dismissal and boredom. "The baby can fight. I'm impressed. You are not a complete pushover. It's a pity—you're no match for me. I'm you without the restraint of morality."

A hacking cough kept Anakin from talking.

The older Zach grinned. "Something to say, Twice Born? We'll have to change your title very soon. Your physical form won't be around much longer. You are running out of time."

Anakin haphazardly wiped away the spittle clinging to his cracked lips. "Zach…" He had to break off as more coughs rattled his weakened body.

Zach, the real Zach, closed his eyes and cringed at each cough. "Let him go," he begged.

His older doppelgänger laughed merrily. "That is not up to me."

Zach turned back to his uncle. "Go. You've got to survive."

"You are worth it. I'm n—n—not…"

The Zach in the suit cracked his knuckles idly. "Chit chat is so boring. You've given it your best shot, Zachy boy. Now, let me show you how it is done."

The other Zach shifted into a vaguely humanoid creature with yellow eyes and shiny and pale green scales for skin. The creature sprinted forward in a blink of an eye. It hit Zach dead on, shoulder first. All the air left Zach's lungs as he was lifted off his feet. He waved his arms wildly for a moment, trying to grab hold of something. The blow threw him back into the still intact wall. His head ricocheted off the stone wall.

The creature struck out at Anakin. Its hand transformed into a hideous mockery of an eagle's feet including the razor-sharp talons. Anakin's eyes glowed with a multitude of color. The talons ripped through skin and sliced through bone. Zach tried to scream. The creature did scream. It raised its hand up and stared at it in horror. Nothing remained but a scorched stump below the elbow. Anakin slumped to the ground, blood pooling around him.

Zach shoved himself off the wall. Blinded by rage, he attacked with everything he had. Fire balls and telekinetic empowered punches rained down on the startled creature. It backed off, but Zach kept up his attack. He roared in anguish and loss. The air around him shimmered. The whole castle began to collapse around them.

The creature transformed into a snake. Zach blasted it in two. The bisected muscular body writhed and twisted on the vanishing floor. Dark inky smoke poured out of the wound, shrouding the body. Zach paused and winced in pain. He clutched at his chest and felt something beneath his ruined shirt. He reached underneath and pulled out the simple necklace with the tooth talisman. The tooth was no longer a dull brown. It was a pure white. Zach held the tooth up higher to inspect it closer. Carved along the edge were tiny pictures.

The smoke cleared revealing a disheveled Zach, lying on the non-existent floor. His suit was ripped. His perfectly gelled hair fell around his sweat-covered face. He was panting heavily.

"That's not yours," he hissed.

Zach let it go. "You're right."

The other Zach climbed onto his feet, smiling. He held out his hand.

Zach frowned and stared at the hand with an arched eyebrow. "I do let my worries hold me back."

The other Zach blinked and backed up as realization dawned on him. Zach ripped the necklace off and held it aloft. He glared at his more suave twin and yelled out a word in a language he did not know. The talisman shattered, washing everything in a blinding white radiance.

* * *

"Matty," called little Phebe, walking up to the teenager.

Matt looked down at her with a smile. "What's up, sweetie?"

"When's my mommy and daddy going to be back?"

Matt cast a glance over at his great-aunt. Phoebe was entertaining some of the other younger children with help from Beth. He could see the concern on her face. She hid it well, but he caught her in a reflective moment. They had been locked in the basement for at least an hour. Piper had never returned. The house was not that big; there were not that many places for Michael to have been. He returned his gaze to his cousin and shrugged.

"I'm not sure, but they'll be back soon."

Phebe pulled an unimpressed face. "But I want them," she whined.

"I know. We all want our parents."

Phebe frowned incredulously. "But you're a big boy."

Matt smirked despite the situation. "Doesn't mean I can't miss my mom and dad."

"My mommy says if you missing someone it means they're thinking of you," she sniffed.

Matt bent down and pulled her onto his knee. He looked her in her eyes. "Really?"

She nodded her head fervently. "That's what she says."

Someone moved closer to them. Matt looked up. It was Sophia. He did not know how to feel. They had been going through a rough patch. The loss of her father hit Sophia hard. He had tried being there for her. In the end, even with the number of horrors he had experienced, he was thoroughly unprepared to help her. That feeling of uselessness never sat well with him, and it caused him to act insensitively. Before all hell broke lose, again, he was sure Sophia had been planning to break up with him. If Rebecca had not interrupted them, she probably would have already said the dreaded words.

"Matthew," said Sophia softly, "can we talk?"

Matt swallowed hollowly. "Can we not? Not right here, right now?"

Sophia's eyes were as bloodshot as his own. "Not about us. I've been reading through my d—da—dad's—notes on h—his encounters with magic. Really, they're his family's encounters; some of them date back to the witch trials as Salem."

Matt nodded. Phebe squirmed off his knee and wondered off. He stood up. "Right."

"It's a way to keep myself busy. Anyway, I read about an experience by one of my ancestors at the turn of the century. He was tracking a clan of werewolves near the Canadian border. One night he stumbled upon a small village. It was completely decimated. He initially attributed the damage to the werewolves, but in retrospect, he felt something much more sinister was to blame. Then he launched into an ancient legend he had heard from some Navajo elders about skinwalkers."

Matt continued to listen as his frown deepened.

Sophia grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the wall near the stairs. She bent down and drew a finger over a series of carved imaged near the base of the cold gray wall. "He had a sketch of similar pictographs on the following page. Do you know anything about Sarah's family?"

Matt shrugged studying the carvings. "Not much more than what we've learned being here. They never visited San Francisco. Zach never said anything about stuff like this."

"But Suyana was a shape shifter," said Sophia quieter.

Matt leaned in, catching the slightest whiff of her shampoo. He shook his head, ridding himself of the stray thoughts. "Are you thinking she's a skinwalker? I doubt that. I know Suyana's family was from South America. They're not Navajo."

Sophia turned her head to face him. They were almost nose-to-nose. She pulled back a bit, gaining a safe distance. "Navajo have their legends on skinwalkers, but it's not the story my ancestor wrote down. I think that this oral tradition comes from the far reaches of the Inca Empire. The pictographs are similar."

Matt folded his arms over his chest. "What's the point?"

"The naagolishii—a skinwalker—is one of the most feared beings. It is a corruption of a guardian spirit, a pure heart. What if—what if that thing we saw—what if it was Zach?"

Matt shook his head immediately. "Don't be absurd."

Sophia stared at him with wide eyes. "It could be. It could be what Lucifer was doing. He needed to turn Zach. We've always just imagined that meaning him being an evil witch, but it always struck me as odd Lucifer would choose Zach. He's powerful, but he's not a match for say his dad or your dad."

"They're also not teenagers," interjected Matt.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, maybe. So why not truly try and corrupt you? He had you on the island for a while. He concentrated on Zach, though."

Matt shuddered against the rising memories. "Yeah, 'cause he's the strongest of us—the firstborn in his, our, generation."

"And if he's a union of something more? Look at the stuff written about your uncle. The Twice Blessed. Now, combine his legacy with that of a powerful family of shape shifters…"

Matt stared at her. His mouth opened and closed imitating a fish as he tried to process Sophia's suggestion. He had kept his time on the island to himself for the most part. At times, he would feel so cut off from the rest of his family and friends. The only one he never felt like he had to hide the damage from was Anakin purely because he knew Anakin saw right through the act. He wanted to confide in someone, but the war made his concerns seem insignificant. He wanted to talk to Zach. He needed his cousin to not be that thing he had seen.

"No—no…it can't be—no," mumbled Matt.

Sophia cocked her head to one side and reached out. He stared at her hand on his shoulder. He shifted and placed his hand over her hand. "I don't want to lose you," he said.

Sophia closed her eyes and looked away. "We're—it's…oh, Matt…"

Matt sniffed and cleared his throat. "What do these symbols mean?"

"I don't know. I've been looking for some sort of translation help. It's why I recognized them. Do you think the parents know?"

Matt looked over his shoulder at Phoebe. "It'd be just like them to not tell us everything."

Sophia chewed on her lip. "Matt…"

Matt shook his head. "Soph, please," he begged.

Sadly Sophia walked away without another word. Matt stayed with is eyes closed. He tried to steady his breathing. He felt the tears escape and trickle down his cheeks despite his best efforts. Sounds around him were muffled. Slinking further into the abandoned corner Matt took in a deep gulping breath. Angrily he kicked the wall. There was a battle raging outside. His grandmother and cousin were missing. Losing control, breaking down, was not an option at the moment.

The light hanging down from the nondescript roof flickered. Something exploded. A few of the children screamed. Matt picked up Pippa and hugged her tight. She was the nearest of the children to him. His eyes met Phoebe's worried eyes. He nodded his head once. She was holding a crying Patience. Keeping his grip on his younger cousin, he walked over to his great aunt.

"I've got them."

Patience clung onto Phoebe, shaking her head.

"Sweetie, it's alright. Everything's going to be fine. Look! Matt's right here. You like Matt don't you?"

Matt smiled, knowing his cheeks were stained with tears. "Come on, we can all play a game."

Paxton was nearby, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Don't try and distract us! We're not stupid."

Nathaniel jumped in before Matt or Phoebe could answer. "What? You're still too chicken after I whipped your butt the last time we played monopoly?"

Paxton blushed. "Na-ah."

Nathaniel arched a thick eyebrow. "Then prove it."

Matt adjusted Pippa more comfortably on his hip. She had her head buried into his aching shoulder. He might work out, but he had very little practice in holding children. He patted Patience on the back. She was still holding on tightly to Phoebe.

"Come on, Patience, I'm going to need your help."

Patience turned her head slightly. He could barely see her face beneath her curly thick black hair. "I want Mommy!"

Matt nodded. Patience allowed herself to be transferred into Matt's arm. "All our parents will be back soon."

Pippa perked up. "I want to be the race car!"

Phoebe raced up the stairs. There was something wrong. She could feel it in her bones. The house was silent and still. Nothing moved. Her heart pounded in her ears. A floorboard creaked. She jumped and threw a punch.

"OW!"

Phoebe covered her mouth with her hands. She punched Nathaniel. "Oh, sweetie!"

Nathaniel waved her back. "No, no. My fault. It—it just felt wrong letting you come out here alone."

Phoebe smiled. "I've being doing this for a long time."

"Yeah. Still. No one should be alone. I've seen the most action out of the teens."

The sobering thought chilled Phoebe. This handsome person before her was for all his bravado a baby still. Still when she used her empathy she did not detect an inkling of fear or dread from him. He was determined. She did not have time to talk him back into the basement.

"Sorry about the nose."

Nathaniel chuckled. "A war wound from one of the original Charmed Ones. I'll wear it with pride."

They reached a room with windows.

"That's weird," said Nathaniel pointing at the scene beyond the thin glass.

Phoebe looked out and did not see anything but the usual scenery. "What?"

"Where'd the ward go?"

Phoebe frowned deeply. "What ward?"

Nathaniel inched closer to the window. "The one Anakin put around the house. I assumed it was Anakin. Didn't you see it? It was this very opaque thing."

"He must have put it up after I got the kids into the basement." Phoebe stood beside Nathaniel. "Good or bad sign?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "No clue."

Phoebe squeezed his shoulder. "Haven't been around this family long enough. Surprises are hardly ever good. I wonder if Coop can get through the wards."

She closed her eyes and called for her husband in her mind. Nothing happened. Clearly Sarah's family had thought about their warding of the property very carefully. An idea popped into her head.

"Do you know where the warding stone is?"

Nathaniel shook his head confused. "What's a warding stone?"

Phoebe ignored him and walked out the room. Her knowledge on warding was very limited. Paige was the expert. She had set up all sorts of wards around the Manor when they had lived there. Then she made packages for them when they each moved into new places. Each package always included a stone or crystal, serving as an anchor for the protective magic.

"Anakin—Anakin would know," she said to herself.

A sharp pain in her chest forced a gasp out of her. She clutched her hand over her heart and dropped to the floor. It was unimaginable pain. Pain she had felt only once before on the worst day of her life. She had to find her sister.

"Piper!" she cried out.

Nathaniel helped her to her feet. "Are you ok?" He asked, concerned.

Phoebe steadied herself by resting her right hand against the nearest wall. Years of having premonitions meant she knew exactly what the feeling was. They were running out of time.

"Mrs. Love, are you alright?"

Phoebe nodded and pushed herself away from the wall. "We need to find my sister."

Nathaniel looked around. "She was looking for Michael."

The ground quaked beneath them, throwing them to the floor. A fire ball destroyed the nearby table, showering them in ash and dust. Phoebe flipped herself back onto her feet and darted behind the relative safety of the couch. Nathaniel rolled across the ground in the opposite direction.

"We should have brought someone with long range active powers," said Nathaniel glibly.

Phoebe arched an eyebrow. "Don't underestimate your powers."

Six demons shimmered into the room, all armed with energy balls. Phoebe popped her head out from behind the couch.

"Over here, fellas."

The demons reacted in a predictable fashion and threw their energy balls at her. Phoebe shoved her hands out and concentrated on the hatred radiating off the demons. The energy balls reversed course and vanquished their conjurers. The triumphant Charmed One stood up and gave her teenaged companion a smirk. Nathaniel mimed clapping and joined her in the middle of the room.

"If there are demons here…" started Nathaniel but he let his thought trail off.

Phoebe sucked in a deep breath. "We're going to need backup. With the wards down—but Coop didn't come."

Movement outside the window interrupted further discussion. Phoebe motioned for Nathaniel to move out of sight. She picked up one of the charred table legs and inched forward. The figure outside had its back to the window. Howls and screams drifted in through the shattered glass. Shards crunched beneath her feet. The experienced witch held her breath for the last few feet. She recognized the figure and relaxed.

Anakin stood in front of the window with his hands in front of his chest. Millions of translucent spindles of something spread out from his palms and fingers. They formed a cone of sorts, absorbing the dozens of fire balls and other demonic attacks.

Phoebe looked past her nephew. The field between the house and the surrounding woods was no longer recognizable. It resembled the destruction of no-man's land between the trenches of the world wars. At the outskirts of the woods stood a dozen figures. Three of the demons towered over the others. At her current distance from them, she could not identify the demons, but she bet the three were members of the Ennead.

Nathaniel tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump. He held up his hands in front of his face, defending his nose. "Sorry. Sorry. What is going on?"

Phoebe turned away from the window. "I don't see anyone else outside."

"Can't you sense them with your empathy?"

Phoebe shook her head. "Maybe on a calm day. I'm not a whitelighter."

Nathaniel balled his fists up in frustration. "Those are Ennead. How'd they get through the wards?"

Zach staggered into the room, helping a limping Piper along. "Because Michael sabotaged the wards."

Phoebe jumped into action and helped Piper onto the couch.

"It's just a twisted ankle," said Piper, annoyed.

Zach collapsed into a chair.

"Mike?"

"He's not Mike—I don't know. Anakin tried to explain but then the attack started." Zach coughed.

Piper swatted Phoebe off her. "Sarah's gone to get word to the others. Are the kids still in the basement?"

Phoebe nodded. "Mike? Seriously?"

"Yeah, you were all focusing on the wrong kid," snapped Zach.

Phoebe faced him. "Oh…"

Zach held up his hand. "I don't need to hear it, Aunt Phoebe. We just need to figure out how to get out of this alive. Anakin's not going to be able to keep them at bay indefinitely."

Piper struggled to sit up straight. "We've got to re-activate the wards. It'll keep more demons from getting inside."

"Where's the ward stone?"

Zach waved his hand and a stone the size of the watermelon appeared in the center of the room. It was cracked in three uneven parts. "That's what remains of it. Apep pulverized the rest."

"Apep?" asked Nathaniel softly.

Zach eyed him before answering. "He's the grey-haired one with the hat. I'm not sure about his powers or why he's here."

The fear in Zach's voice chilled the room.

Piper groaned and hugged her chest. "So they're not all the same?"

Zach shook his head slowly. He chose his words with care. "The Ennead have very different personalities. Some are pure extensions of Lucifer's will. Others are more self-aware. Isis is their leader and Lucifer's right hand. She's powerful and able to get people to do what she wants. Then there's Set. He's—he's the brains of the operation. Others are assassins that put th—the Phoenix to shame." His voice cracked. "Apep is an unknown. I hardly ever saw him."

A stray fire ball obliterated a part of the wall. Phoebe yelped in fright. Nathaniel threw himself to the floor.

"Grandma, you need to get downstairs," said Zach tiredly.

Piper bristled. "I'm not hiding away."

"Piper," started Phoebe.

Piper shook her head and her eyes flashed. "No. I'll sit in a wheelchair and blow up demons. You're not locking me up and then going out there alone. Not happening."

Zach shrugged and pushed himself out of the chair. "We don't have time to argue. We need to fix the wards and breaking the ones they have up."

"None of us know enough about…"

Zach knelt down by the stone ignoring Phoebe. "He was able to break it because of my transformation. We'll need my blood and the Power of Three."

Nathaniel approached the stone. Some of the runes glowed feebly. He backed up. "Um—I can, um, get them?"

"We're not Charmed—not anymore," whispered Zach, not looking at anyone.

"Zach…"

Zach stood up and stood in front of the window. "I'm not Charmed. Not while I'm still that thing. I've got it pushed aside, but I can feel it. It's right there. One wrong move—a slip of control…"

Someone roared, and Anakin slammed into the outside wall. He dropped to his knees. The shield was broken. Energy ball and fire balls started pounding against the side of the house. Light fixtures swung dangerously. Shelving toppled off the wall. The porch caught fire.

Kenny, Matt, and Richard ran into the room.

"What are you doing out of the basement!" yelled Piper.

Kenny waved his hand and extinguished the growing fire. He pointed his finger in the direction of the forest. A horizontal tornado ripped demonic attacks out of the air and tossed them back at their conjurers. His eyes darkened and thin black crease marks stretched out from his eyes and lips.

Zach orbed Anakin inside the room. He helped his uncle into a seat beside Piper.

"Now what?" gasped Kenny.

Anakin blinked slowly. "They can't cross the grounds. Suyana cursed them."

"Why don't they shimmer?"

"I don't know," said Anakin with a moan of pain.

Phoebe pulled out a long shard of glass from his shoulder. The wound healed itself.

"Need—plan…" Kenny squeezed his eyes shut. His arm shook under the strain of keeping the protective tornado under control.

"Where's Mike?" asked Richard.

Zach turned away.

Anakin opened his mouth and closed it again.

"Rick…" Phoebe faltered.

Richard gulped and crossed his arms. "He wasn't Mike, was he?"

"No," muttered Zach.

Richard rubbed his eyes. "Who was he?"

"Montu," hissed Anakin as Phoebe continued her removal of glass and wood splinters.

"How?"

Kenny stumbled back, dropping his arm. "Sorry."

Anakin tried to stand up, but Piper stopped him. The bombardment did not restart. Zach caught his uncle's eyes and stepped up to the window with Matt quickly following him. Phoebe stifled a shout of protest.

"Is Uriel's pet too scared to face me?" boomed a deep voice.

Zach glanced at Anakin. "He's busy."

The gravely voice laughed. "Apep is pleased. Apep likes his prey frightened."

"We're not afraid you bastard," yelled Matt defiantly.

A higher voice cackled. "Oh, it's the little one. Remember me, little one?"

Matt balled his hands into fists. "Sekhmet," he growled.

"I've still got those handcuffs in my bedside table," cooed Sekhmet.

A tree near Sekhmet exploded, vanquishing a dozen or more demons. Matt whole body vibrated. His nostrils flared. Zach reached over and squeezed his wrist.

"You're safe," he whispered.

Matt pulled his hand free. "We need to kill them."

Anakin dodged his mother and hobbled over to the window. "Not without my brothers. They'll destroy us."

One of the figures, Apep, stepped forward. The ground beneath his feet turned to molten rock, and he retreated. "We're here for what is my master's. You stole his apprentice. Return him, and we will leave."

"You'll have to kill me first," said Anakin with such venom even Zach and Matt took a step away from him.

"Suit yourself," said Apep and he turned his back on the house, slinking back into the forest.

Phoebe stepped up beside her nephew. "Why aren't they attacking?"

"Because we are." They all spun around. Michael stood in the doorway with an ornate silver dagger pressed against Nathaniel's neck. "No sudden movements. He's not family, but he's still an innocent."

"Drop the mask, Montu," said Anakin.

Montu dug the dagger deeper. A trickle of blood ran down Nathaniel's neck. "I think the brother should see this happen as is."

Richard choked back a shout.

Montu in Michael's body pressed his mouth against Nathaniel's left ear. "Go ahead and transform. Make my day."

Nathaniel looked fearful at the Halliwells.

Montu arched an eyebrow. "How's the ring, Kenny, love?"

Kenny's hand slipped into his pocket. Montu smiled knowingly. "And you, young Zachary, feeling the thirst for blood grow? Or is it just carnage you long for now?"

Anakin inched forward. Montu cut his blade in a smidge more. He waggled his finger. "Now, now, Twice Born, you don't want to be the cause of another innocent's death."

"What do you want?"

Montu frowned and looked at Piper. "You deaf or something, grandma? We want Zach."

"You can't have him," said Matt.

Montu laughed. "Oh, little Matt, Sekhmet showed me some of her tapes of your time together. We've already won the day. The only question is how many dead bodies we're leaving behind."

"Just one," choked out Nathaniel.

He transformed. Montu droved the dagger into his neck and spun away. The wounded black panther swiped his clawed paw at the Ennead's stomach. His claws racked across the soft tissue. Montu snapped his finger and the dagger exploded. Nathaniel's human body dropped to the floor, spilling blood from the massive wound where his head used to be.

* * *

AN: Yet another death...What did you think?


	12. Save The Break Of Dawn

AN: I know. I know. I'm so sorry for the wait. I hope this chapter is worth it.

SAVE THE BREAK OF DAWN

Darkness descended on the small nearly deserted valley. It blanketed the landscape with a welcome gentle breeze. Twilight had always been his favorite time of day. Montu in the shape of the dead Michael Brooks looked out across the piles of ash littering the open ground between the woods and the wooden cabin. He shook his head and transformed back into the towering and powerful figure of his true human form. Unlike the rest of his brethren, he preferred his true form, but he felt like the moment required a more somber approach.

With shoulder length dark brown hair and a sharp angular jawline, he cut a very attractive figure. His brown eyes sparkled in the firelight. While as tall as the others, he was thinner than most. He did not mind as it allowed him the advantage of speed and accuracy. A subordinate dodged out of his path as he swept through the makeshift camp. Sekhmet was due back from scouting the property line.

He found Apep seated regally, surrounded by upper-level demons. All the demons had the identical looks of gut-crushing fear plastered on their misshapen faces. They clearly failed to break through the barriers erected by the witches. The younger looking member of the Ennead waited in the growing shadows as Apep's eyes narrowed. He watched the terrible orbs change from gray to a brilliant gold. The air around the demons shimmered and combusted. The fiery inferno howled as it consumed the lives and bodies of the dozen demons in a flash. Still Montu remained unmoving, rooted in the protective darkness.

Apep walked out of the blazing ball of heat, elegantly brushing aside the soot from his expensive suit shoulder with a gloved hand. His eyes dimmed and faded back to gray but lost none of their intense fury. Apep's human form was a tall old man. He had gray hair and a clean-shaven almost grandfatherly face. He wore a very stylish all black suit. He rarely played well with others but commanded the respect of everyone he met, even Set and Isis. Montu had never seen his true form.

"You can stop your skulking and show yourself, Montu," called Apep in a rich deep voice.

Montu frowned and stepped fully into the firelight. He waited for the firestorm to sputter into lifelessness before talking. "Those were some very influential demons."

"They were pathetic useless slobs," said Apep with a wave of dismissal. "Father can do better. Shall I assume from your presence you too have failed in gaining re-entry to the cabin?"

Montu bristled at the tone. "Everything is proceeding as I planned. This is my mission, Apep."

Apep graced him with a belittling smile. "My dear, our Father would not have sent me if he trusted you to accomplish anything."

"He chose me!"

Apep raised a single finger. The air rushed out of Montu's lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. Apep lowered his finger and waggled it from side to side. "I am not someone who abides squabbles, Montu. I care even less when the argument holds no merit. You were to strike when Zachary had neutralized Anakin. The death of Rebecca and both his grandmothers would have sealed his conversion to our side. Instead, I arrive to find Anakin weakened but very much able to fight. In fact, he would have destroyed you had you less of a coward's instinct."

Montu's form ripped. His nose took on the shape of a flacon's beak for a moment. His eyes shifted from brown to green to brown. Apep smirked and turned away from him, showing a clear lack of concern. He raised a gloved hand and a fire ball appeared in his palm. He squeezed his fingers around it and snuffed it out.

"Father will be most displeased. He wasted a great deal of energy in merging you with that bastard form of a life the witch resurrected. At least, the part about stripping Anakin of his gift remains true. The limbus circus was a dangerous gamble."

Montu regained control over his powers. "It is not your place to critique Father."

Apep shrugged. "Perhaps, but like all of the former creation he can make mistakes. His imprisonment proves that."

Sekhmet appeared in a burst of light and ice. She was deathly pale. After her fight with the Halliwells on the island, she had decided to reassess her chosen preferred powers. Her physical form reshaped to fit her new selection of gifts. Long blond hair glistened under the crescent moon. Her eyes were icy blue with veins of silver. She held herself as a warrior queen worthy of the regal feline her true form took after. She inclined her head deferentially to Apep and ignored Montu.

"They are almost through the wards. The Twice Blessed is quite adept at brute magic," she said in a low purr.

Apep nodded his head once. "As I suspected, well, Montu, it appears your time has come to an end. We shall return and inform Father you have lost his apprentice and his best chance of striking at the heart of this family without some blood loss."

Montu bared his teeth. "The hell you will. Those bastard witches have not broken through yet, and you forget, Apep, I'm the master of wards." Montu waved his hand and a brief green glow obscured the sky. "Now, you're stuck until I say so. No one is leaving this fucking place until that brat is captured or dead."

Sekhmet chuckled and licked her lips. "Apep, I would not mind getting my claws dirty."

Apep sighed. "Fine. You have until sundown. Focus your efforts on Zachary and his friends. I will deal with the Twice Blessed and his entourage."

Before Montu could argue both Ennead vanished. Montu screamed. The burst of energy vanquished a half dozen nearby demons.

* * *

Anakin sat on the floor with legs crossed. His wound pained him slightly, and he grimaced. In front of him were the three remaining parts of the warding stone. At the moment, the gray shards might as well as been random rocks he picked up during a hike. The runes did not even flicker in response to his touch. The ancient protective magic was dead. He needed to find a new way to protect the property and his family.

"They haven't attacked in a while," said Zach from his position in front of the window.

Anakin shoved the closest shard aside in disgust. "They're running out of demons to waste breaking the curse. Whatever that green light was I'm guessing it cuts them off from reinforcements."

Zach looked over his shoulder. "Why'd they do that?"

"Dissention in the ranks, or, perhaps, your father is close to breaking through the wards." Anakin stretched out his legs with a groan.

Zach rubbed his hands against the bare skin of his arms in an attempt to stave off the cold. Anakin noticed the gesture and sighed. "You should get some rest, Zach. It's been a rough day for you."

Zach shook his head and resolutely continued his surveillance of the darkening scenery. Anakin struggled to his feet and shuffled over to his nephew. He could guess some of the thoughts running around the young witch's mind. The memories of the other Anakin haunted him still.

"You need to sleep," repeated Anakin gently.

"No," whispered Zach.

Anakin bit his cracked lower lip. "Zach…"

"I can't," interrupted Zach. "Annie, I can't. Every time I blink—I can see her. How do I live with that? How can I sleep? What if I sleep—and—and—and I'm not the one who wakes up?"

Anakin closed his eyes. "Suyana's death was not your fault."

"I KILLED HER!" screamed Zach.

Anakin noticed the darkening of Zach's blue eyes. He held his breath. The moment passed. "Zach, the naagolishii killed Suyana."

"I'm the naagolishii. That's what I am," said Zach, choking on the words.

"If you were a naagolishii I'd not be standing here in one piece. It'd recognize me as a threat. A naagolishii is smart and conniving, but it is still an animal and a predator. It'd recognize another predator."

Zach frowned. "You're not a predator."

"I'm not human, either. Whatever you think I am, I am a threat a naagolishii would not tolerate in its territory. It is why your great-grandfather sought out your grandmother. Yes, he wanted her powers as his, but he also could not allow another powerful being to remain unchecked."

"I can feel him. He's right there. One slip, one moment of distraction…"

Anakin licked his lips and wrapped an arm around Zach's shoulders. The teen stiffened for a moment; he took a deep breath and relaxed. Anakin smiled. "It may feel like that, but it's not true. I know you, Zach. The naagolishii is beaten. You won."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Zach with the tiniest hint of hope in his voice.

Anakin's voice cracked as he spoke. "Because, you are one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. Even as a baby, you could be ridiculously hard headed." He smiled. "It drove your parents crazy. You always knew exactly what you wanted and when you wanted it."

Zach cracked a small smile. "Really?"

Anakin nodded. "Yeah. There was this one time at the park. We were there to celebrate a birthday or maybe it was your parent's engagement, I forget, but after lunch Mom—er—Grandma Piper wanted to take a family photo. Well, you wanted to go on the slide and were having nothing to do with sitting still for a photo. In the end, I took you to the slide, and we were spelled into the picture later."

"I remember that picture. I didn't know it was spelled," said Zach, stifling a yawn.

"The point is, you were able to out-stubborn my mom and your parents. Once you set your mind to something you finish it. There is no chance the naagolishii could ever overpower you again."

Zach held his hand over his mouth to cover another yawn. He blinked slowly. "But…"

Anakin guided him over to the couch. "Zach, I promise you, nothing is going to happen. You can sleep right here. I'll keep an eye on you."

"The others…" Zach started to drift off.

"Everyone is safe for now. Get some sleep while you can, whispered Anakin as he looked out of the broken window.

The forest outside was on fire. Something large and serpentine crashed through the trees briefly illuminated by the moonlight. The blond witch closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. The air around him hummed with energy. The cornerstone of the wards may be shattered, but he still had a trick or two up his sleeve. He felt Zach shift next to him, reminding him all he could lose if he got things wrong.

"Open your eyes, Twice Born. "

Anakin opened his eyes and balled his hands into fists. "You won't get to them."

The voice of Apep echoed around him in a sinister whisper. "Never my intention. I was here to ensure you lost the day. The ending of the last line of shape shifters counts as a victory in my book."

"So then leave," hissed Anakin careful to keep his voice soft.

The disembodied voice chuckled. "My colleague has other plans. You may save your family inside but your brothers are ripe for the picking."

Anakin gulped. The air shimmered with sparks of green and blue. He knew Apep was goading him. Lowering the wards was a mistake. He looked down at Zach; he could not tell him they had lost his parents.

"Time is wasting."

Anakin stood up slowly and stood in front of the window. The massive form of a snake with gold eyes rested comfortably on the cursed ground. Sucking in his breath the witch gripped his hands tightly behind his back. "If you could take down my brothers, you would have done so. Taunting me proves you lack the power."

Apep raised his head and opened his mouth revealing a throat lined with molten rock. "The child is all we seek. Give him to us and you can live out the remainder of your days in obscurity."

Anakin forced his eyes to come alight. "Try and take him."

He threw out a hand, and a cyclone of power shot out. It ripped up the ground between him and Apep. The blast of energy nearly reached Apep when the snake melted away into the darkness. Anakin cursed and slammed his fist into the wall.

Zach jolted awake. "What?" Who? Where?"

Anakin steadied his breathing. "It's nothing. Go back to sleep. I'm going to find Phoebe; it's her turn for watch."

Zach groggily rubbed his eyes. "Annie, don't go."

Anakin stopped, shoulders slumping. "Zach…"

"I—er—just stay 'til I fall asleep?"

Anakin bowed his head in defeat. "As you wish."

He took a seat on the floor beside the couch. He leaned back against the couch and waited patiently as Zach adjusted himself into a more comfortable position. Slowly sleep took Zach again as indicated by his steady deep breaths. Anakin meant to stand up, but exhaustion washed over him. Soon, he, too, was fast asleep.

* * *

Morning found the positions on the battlefield unchanged. A ward surrounded the house and sparkled in the morning light as further defiance against those who would do the inhabitants harm. A vast swath of the forest to the east lay in ash and ruin, the handiwork of a frustrated Apep. Great shards of ice marked Sekhmet's fruitless attempts at crossing the open ground separating the house from the forest. Montu's ward also flashed in the weak sunlight.

Anakin stood at the kitchen sink with a cup of black tea clutched tightly in his right hand. His left hand traced the scars on his leg beneath his jeans. The wound felt like it was on fire. He gritted his teeth and placed his hand on the counter, taking a small sip of tea. The house remained eerily silent, but he could sense his family moving about, talking in whispers. The fear shrouding the house was palpable. He knew they would have to act soon.

"Remind me to not sleep on that couch again," said Zach, walking into the kitchen. The teen rubbed his neck, abandoning his attempt to dry his hair with a towel.

Anakin turned around, acknowledging the teen with a nod. "The shower didn't help?"

Zach shook his head slowly. "Where's Grandma?"

"Upstairs helping move the younger cousins through the bathroom."

Zach frowned. "Should we be even..." He paused and shivered.

Anakin place the mug in the sink behind him. "Routine will keep them from panicking even more. Have you seen your friends?"

"Err—um…"

"You can't avoid them. They'll want to see you," advised Anakin wisely.

Zach groaned and busied himself with making a cup of instant coffee. He very carefully avoided his uncle's steady gaze as he went about his business. He paused once the kettle was on and snuck a glance at Anakin. The older witch returned to staring out the small window above the sink. Taking advantage of the situation, Zach studied his uncle. The man was clearly favoring one side and had the beginning of a large bruise developing on the right side on his face and down his neck. A sting of guilt twisted his stomach, and he looked away.

"It doesn't hurt," whispered Anakin.

Zach froze. "What?"

Anakin sighed easily. "The bruise, it doesn't hurt. It just looks ugly. As for the leg, well, that happened before you were free, so you can't go feeling guilty about that."

"How'd you…"

"A wild guess," teased Anakin.

Zach smiled briefly. "Coffee?"

Anakin shook head. "No, thanks."

Zach added a heaping spoon of sugar to his drink. "We've got to go on the offensive."

Anakin nodded, lips thinning. "I can't think…"

"Can you collapse the wards?" interrupted Zach.

Anakin tilted his head to one side. "It'd sap me of most of my strength."

Zach nodded, taking a sip and pulling a face. "Ugh…could you still keep the ward around the house up as well?"

"Maybe," said Anakin hesitantly. "But I'd not be able to fi…"

"Perfect," said Zach a little louder to keep control of the conversation. "Then with the ward down my parents, Chris, and the rest of the family could come in. That'll give us three groups of 'Charmed Ones' for lack of a better term, one for each of the Ennead."

Anakin's brow furrowed in dislike. "Zach, no…"

Zach held up one hand. "Annie, it's the best we can do. Look, the kids need someone protecting them—you. Then that leaves Grandma, Phoebe, and Paige to take on let's say Sekhmet. You can't say they're not up to it. They're the most experienced witches like ever. My dad, mom, Chris, and Prue and the other cousins can take on demons and one of the other Ennead. That just leaves Matt, Rick, me, and Kenny to fight the last Ennead. We might not be able to vanquish them, but we'll put up enough of a fight to make them think twice about hanging around."

"You're not…"

Zach put down his cup, ignoring Anakin. "Ok—I'll go tell the others the plan. You figure out how you're going to drop the ward."

"ZACH!" yelled Anakin, but it was too late. The teen rushed out of the room.

Closing his eyes, the witch leaned back against the counter. Thoughts whirled around in his head. Whiffs of sour instant coffee plagued his sense of smell as he tried to keep his breathing even. A small part of him, the coward part, wished Uriel had let his soul burn all those years ago. The idea of sending people he loved to fight the Ennead tore him up inside. There was no other choice. Zach made perfect sense. He chose the plan most likely to work, however, slim the margin of success.

"Annie, sweetie, you ok?"

Anakin blinked and forced a smile. "Yeah, Mom. Just tired."

Piper narrowed her brown eyes in concern. "Phoebe told me you never woke her to take over watch."

"Um, yeah, I—it was fine."

"Zach said you had a plan," said Piper observing she would not get a clearer answer.

Anakin scoffed. Of course, the little devil threw him under the bus. He cleared his throat and coughed. "Right. It's a long shot, but it's the best chance we've got."

Eyeing her youngest closely, Piper took a glass out of the cupboard. "A long shot?"

"Mom, please, let's wait until everyone's down."

Matt walked into the room, carrying the Book of Shadows with him. "Morning, Grandma—Annie. Zach said we'll need this."

Piper glanced at Anakin. "What's…"

"When everyone's here, Mom," said Anakin firmly. He pushed himself away from the counter and took the offered Book from Matt. "How'd you sleep?"

Matt shrugged. "How'd you think? Although, it looks like I got a few more hours than you."

Anakin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Possibly. Did you find anything useful on wards?"

"No, just like you said. Do you have the Book memorized?"

Anakin chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation or despite it. "Some days it feels like it."

Kenny, Sophia, and Rebecca were next into the kitchen. After a quick greeting, the three scoured the refrigerator for food in an attempt to keep busy. Phoebe came down along with a majority of the younger children. The noise level in the kitchen rose dramatically. Nervous and confused whispers filled the stiflingly still air. Anakin unconsciously reached up and unbuttoned the top button of his black polo shirt. He felt the eyes of his family follow his every action.

Zach slunk in next finding an open corner as far away as possible as from everyone else. He nodded at Anakin and gave him a pleading look. The older witch grimaced. He bowed his head in consent. This would be his plan alone. Finally, the rest of their motley group dawdled into the room. Anakin noted the despondent look on Danny. The attractive teen was even ignoring his boyfriend's quiet attempts to talk. Clearing his throat, Anakin stepped forward. The room fell silent.

"I—um…Yes, I know you are all scared—terrified, really, and you have good reason to be. We've been under siege for a day by three of the most powerful demons this family has ever had to face."

A few of the youngest whimpered. Anakin paused and caught each of their eyes and smiled.

"It feels like we're losing, like there's nothing left. I promise you that isn't the case. We've got a way to beat these demons. We can fight back. We can win. All it needs if for you to trust me one more time. Can you do that?"

Piper and Phoebe looked at each other and then frowned at him. Anakin bit the inside of his cheek. The plan would fall flat if either original Charmed One put up any amount of resistance. The others needed to know Piper and Phoebe were on board. It was the only way for it to work.

"Sweetie, what's the plan?" asked Phoebe, holding onto one of her granddaughter's hands.

Anakin looked at his mother. "I'm going to dismantle the ward keeping the others out."

"You can do that?" asked a number of people in a mixture of shock and anger.

Still focusing on Piper, Anakin nodded slowly. He closed his eyes and directed his eye line over to the teens, the most vocal of the group. "I'll then be tied up keeping the smaller ward around this house stable, leaving the fighting up to you and the others. I won't be able to help."

Kenny spoke up in the resulting dead silence. "How can you be so sure we'll be able to fight them?"

Anakin jerked his chin at the Book of Shadows. It opened up to the first page. "Because we're reconstituting the Charmed Ones."

Argument erupted. Anakin let it build for a few seconds before raising his voice above the rest effectively putting an end to the confused discussion. "This is our only hope."

Piper narrowed her eyes. "They can't be Charmed. They aren't siblings."

"They are the next Charmed Ones, the next great defenders of the innocent. We've all tried to deny the truth, but we can't afford to keep them on the sidelines any longer," said Anakin evenly, choosing each word with careful deliberation. He glanced up at Zach. "What do you think? This is, after all, a decision you three need to make. It is your lives."

Matt cracked his knuckles. "How do we do it?"

Zach nodded firmly but kept silent not moving any closer to his cousins.

Richard folded his arms. Beth sidled up to his side. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. He looked around the room. "It should've been Mike. He was the better prepared, the better witch."

Anakin wetted his lips, preparing to talk, but Zach beat him to the punch.

The blond teen regarded the room with great uneasy. "Michael died saving us—saving me. It took a bit longer than he intended, but he did it. He saved me. I'm standing here, today, because of him. I won't ever forget his sacrifice. He wouldn't want you to do that, to play the what if game. You're here, today, right now. This is your choice."

Richard closed his eyes. "Alright," he whispered.

The Book of Shadows vibrated slightly on the table. Matt easily stepped up to the table. Richard joined him. Zach paused and bit his lip.

"Come on, Zach!"

Zach turned around and found Rebecca, standing next to Sophia and Andrew. "I'm sorry about Nate."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Dude, not the time."

Zach ignored him. "We might not—I wanted you to know." He joined his two cousins. Rebecca's eyes teared up as she forced a smile. "Right, how does this work?" asked Zach returning a smaller smile.

All eyes shifted to Anakin.

"The incantation is right there."

Piper slipped away from Pippa and Philomela. She walked right up to Anakin.

"Their parents aren't here," she whispered.

Anakin sadly nodded his head. "And we can't wait for them."

Reticence descended on the packed room. Everyone held his or her breath, even the children. They all knew the importance of the actions about to be taken. The three young teens gathered around the Book and began to read the incantation out loud.

* * *

Apep reverted to his human form in a swirl of smoke and gray light. His eyes shone with repressed rage as he surveyed the destruction of the forest. Hours of work and energy thrown around, and they had nothing to show for it but a few burnt trees. The curse on the grounds remained intact as did the ward around the little cabin. Whatever powers Uriel had bestowed the blond witch were clearly more than a match for any of them working alone. He could not stomach the thought of the small glint of satisfaction in Montu's eyes if he admitted defeat to the overgrown bird.

Ice and snow announced the arrival of Sekhmet. She shook the long blond strands of hair until they fell in a very regal but natural style. She tilted her head to one side and studied him with her predatory eyes. From the slight up curl at the corner of her lips, he deduced she knew his predicament. Instead of speak, the tall woman raised a single hand with palm facing the sky. A large ball of crystal clear ice formed just above the skin of her palm. She breathed on it, and a pattern of intricate design etched itself into the smooth surface.

"A gift, Apep," she said silkily.

He eyed the offered crystal with some apprehension. Sekhmet had studied ancient lore from the very beginnings of magic. She knew spells only Isis knew how to counteract. He might have the upper hand in brute force, but she could take him out if she was ever so inclined. It was the main reason he kept their relationship on benevolent terms. Only he was never sure if she bought his act or not.

He reached out slowly and touched the orb. It hummed with power. "Why?"

Sekhmet clicked her tongue. "For the war to come."

Before he could respond she vanished. Apep clutched on tighter to the ice ball and spun around. Lightning struck out of the clear sky and out of the smoking remains of the ground rose Anakin with glowing multicolored eyes. Apep raised a hand to strike, but Anakin was faster and more prepared. The witch threw him off his feet and crashing into the ground a hundred feet away with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Sekhmet's gift grew cooler, sucking the energy out the air around him. Mist developed in the resulting low pressure. Tiny ice crystals floated in the air and dissipated the electrical storm he never saw coming. He blinked and rolled to one side.

In the spot where he stood moments before a massive boulder burst out of the ground. The red and orange carvings waxed and waned. It was Montu's warding stone. Anakin was going to destroy their wards. Apep screamed and transformed. His body elongated and diamond hardened scales erupted from his skin. He twisted his neck and coughed. Heat far surpassing the intensity of the surface of the sun sprang forth and blasted in the direction of the witch.

Anakin kept one hand raised, channeling some sort of energy at the warding stone. His other hands twirled and contorted. Apep's fire blast smashed against an invisible shield. Flecks and tongues of flame burnt brilliantly around the witch. The moment the attack subsided Anakin dropped his hand forcefully to his side. Apep writhed to one side instinctively. The ground beneath him shattered. A moment later so did the warding stone.

Apep reared back and found himself suddenly very much alone.

Zach trudged through ash and embers, keeping his eyes peeled for any sort of movement. He sensed Matt, Kenny, and Richard to his right and not too far behind him. The spell to grant them the Power of Three appeared to have amplified all his powers. Pushing aside the nervous energy he felt stemming from his companions, he kicked aside a charred tree branch, spewing fine white ash into the air.

The silence was killing him. They had been out tracking Montu for almost an hour and not once had any of them so much as whistled. His time with Lucifer was characterized by huge stretches of him not talking or interacting with anyone. The few times Eve had gone on a mission were pure agony. He never realized until that point how much he enjoyed the presence of another person.

They reached the remains of a clearing, and he stopped. The others soon joined him in the center. All of them kept their gazes trailing over the horizon. Zach pulled out a small simple crystal from his pocket. It was charmed to buzz in the presence of dark magic. It sat dead still in his hand.

"We can't keep doing this."

Matt wiped his brow with the back of his forearm. "Maybe they left."

"No," said Kenny firmly. "No, he's still here."

Richard frowned. "How can you be so sure?"

Kenny shook his head slightly and fingered something in his pocket. Zach narrowed his eyes but directed his question to Richard.

"Any word from your mom?"

"They're still searching for Apep."

Zach pursed his lips. "Maybe we should try and get his attention."

Both Richard and Kenny's eyes widened.

Matt choked. "You can't be serious, man. It's one thing to sweep the area, but why'd you want to pick a fight with one of them. What if we attract more than one of them?"

Zach held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "It was just a suggestion."

Matt sighed heavily. "It was a bad suggestion."

"We can't keep wondering around. We don't know how many demons are out here. The sooner we show Montu and the rest who they're dealing with the better. Remember, Annie wasn't doing too hot after destroying the wards," said Zach as a way of explanation.

Kenny removed his hands from his pant's pockets. "How'd you even attract one of them?"

"I lived with them for almost a year. I know what pushes their buttons. Don't I, Montu?" Zach flicked his wrists at a pile of debris.

A gong sounded out across the valley, and Montu in half-man half-bird form stepped out from beneath a veil. The Ennead grinned creepily. "Very clever, Zachary."

Zach's hands twitched. "Thanks, learned that from my uncle."

"How's the headache?" taunted Montu. "Still got the beast caged securely, or is he coming out to play?"

Montu's eyes fell on Kenny. "Oh, and you brought the scrawny midget along, how quaint."

Matt placed a restraining hand on Kenny's shoulders.

"Sorry, about your brother, Richard."

Richard's back stiffened. "Go fuck yourself."

Montu rounded on Matt, still smiling. "Still dreaming about your nights with Sekhmet? Does what's-her-face pale in comparison?"

Matt gritted his teeth.

Zach inched forward. "You've failed Montu. I'm not evil, and clearly you don't have the juice to take me by force."

"Really? How do you make that assessment?"

"Zach gestured at the cabin in the distance. "You spent hours trying to break through Anakin's ward. The curse my grandmother placed on the grounds saps you of your strength. There's nothing you can do."

Montu chuckled. "Cocky little bastard, aren't you?"

"Now," shouted Zach as he stepped aside.

Kenny unleashed a torrent of water. It poured out of the ground and enveloped Montu, obscuring him from view. Matt and Richard dug into their pockets and pulled out vials of potions. The water subsided, leaving Montu coughing and gasping for air on his hands and knees. The two threw the potions. The vials broke at Montu's knees. Thick cords of oily smoke rose up and twisted around his arms. Where the smoke touched his skin thick, angry boils appeared. Montu screeched in agony.

"That's for Nathaniel, asshole," hissed Kenny.

Montu's avian eyes snapped onto Kenny. "You'll have to try better."

Powerful legs propelled the Ennead straight at the elemental. Kenny managed to raise a partial shield out of the air, saving his life. Montu's talons sliced through his shirt and dug deep into his chest. Both fell over in a heap. Matt jumped in and kicked Montu in the head, separating him from Kenny. The elemental crawled on his side and hissed. Blood began to pour out of his wound.

"Shit!" exclaimed Matt.

Zach blasted Montu, giving him the space to place himself between the demon and the rest. "Put pressure on the wound. Richard, duck!"

A tree truck flew through the air. Richard fell to the ground, dodging the trunk by millimeters. Montu sprang to his feet and unleashed a barrage of energy balls. Richard threw out his hand, yelling. A dozen of the energy balls changed direction and struck Montu in the chest. Zach batted the rest aside, thankful for his sparring sessions during his captivity.

"Zach, it's pretty bad," whimpered Matt, bent over Kenny.

Zach spared a glance over at his friend. Kenny's pale face was ashen. His eyes fluttered open and shut, rolling back into his head. The blond witch growled and glared at Montu. The Ennead took a step back, muttering something.

"Rick, potions."

"Which ones?" asked Richard hysterically.

Zach flicked his wrists, blasting apart a boulder into dust. "All of them!"

Richard pulled out vials and threw them at Montu. Montu sidestepped and blocked most of them. A puddle of potions formed around him. Abruptly he changed his rhythm and took the offensive. A telekinetic shove knocked Richard off balance. He landed hard near Matt and Kenny. Zach shoved his hands out in front of him, but Montu repelled the attack. Zach stumbled back, tripping over Kenny's limp legs.

Montu rose to his full height in triumph. "Now, witch, you die!"

A fire ball surged to life in front of Montu. It grew in size until it resembled a miniature sun. The heat washed off it and singed Zach's eyebrows. Zach scrambled up, grabbing Richard's and Matt's hands. They had only one last defense.

"The Power of Three will set us free," chanted Zach; his eyes darkened to almost pitch black.

Matt and Richard joined him as Montu launched the fire ball at them. The fire ball hurtled toward them, and Zach ducked down squeezing his eyes shut. He felt the guilt of leading his cousins and friend to their death. Only the fire ball did not reach them. He opened one eye, peeking out and saw a fiery tempest surrounding them.

"We will not lose! You cannot win! You have lost."

Kenny's eyes snapped open. "Eat this!" He yelled.

The tempest swirled around them and above them. It formed into a cone. The tip bent, directed at Montu. Montu laughed in defiance. The razor thin tip of the flaming whirlwind reached out and shot through the center of the shocked Ennead's chest. The world seemed to freeze for a moment. Zach's eyes widened. Montu's body blazed a blinding white and exploded, knocking all of them across the clearing.

* * *

Piper wondered over to the spot on the grounds still marred by blood. Most of the dark red sticky fluid had seeped into the dirt, but there was still enough left on the surface to stain the green blades of grass. The loss of Suyana shook her to her very core. The old woman was the definition of a tenacious survivor. They had never been close, but at her family's time of greatest need, Suyana was there for them. The memory of her death would cling tightly for years to come.

"Piper!" yelled Phoebe from a couple of yards away.

Piper turned around and spotted the source of her sister's distress. A pack of badly tattooed men and women emerged from the forest. Piper knew they could not approach much closer without unleashing Suyana's death curse, but it would not stop them from attacking. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a barrage of energy balls flew in their direction. Three of the men wee darklighters and aimed their crossbows at Paige.

Piper flicked her wrists freezing a half dozen energy balls in mid air with little effort. Phoebe used her fine-tuned empathy to redirect another dozen of the deadly magical spheres back at their conjurers. Paige orbed out of the way of the first two arrows before telekinetically deflecting the third with masterful efficiency. It had been some time since the sisters had battled demons, but they were still a well-oiled machine.

Piper took the offensive first, vanquishing three warlocks with one blast. She sidestepped an athame and threw one of her own with all her might. The silver blade flew through the air with a slight hum and embedded itself in the eye of a gray-haired female. The warlock screamed as fires consumed her. Satisfied, Piper dug into the charmed pouch attached to her hip. Three vanquishing potions made quick work of the last three demons she had targeted.

Paige orbed behind the two darklighters and called for the vanquished one's crossbow. She smiled at her attackers and pulled the trigger. The first darklighter was too slow on the uptake and took a bolt to the heart. The second was wilier and started to orb out. Unfortunately for him, Paige was ready for him. It had taken years of study and failed attempts, but she could throw up an anti-orbing ward in her sleep. The darklighter's dark orbs bumped around the small invisible cage before dumping him unceremoniously on the ground at her feet.

"Next time," said Paige as she pulled the trigger.

Phoebe was at a slight disadvantage to her sisters. She had never developed a truly offensive active power. Nevertheless, she was a master of martial arts. She also had absolute control over her empathy and was able to do things she doubted the Powers ever dreamt of when they invented the power. Forming a shield out of pure and raw emotions deflected almost any magical attack. She then focused her thoughts on a particularly ugly male warlock. There was a moment of resistance before he collapsed to the ground, screaming and clutching his head. To rid himself of the pain the warlock plunged his own dagger into his temple. The rest scattered.

"Oh, come on, fellas, I was only getting started," moaned Phoebe, dropping the shield.

"Nice one," complimented Paige, joining her. "When'd you master the deflection?"

Phoebe sagged slightly controlling that many emotions was tiring. "Just after the attack, which got Dad."

Piper reached them, breathing heavily. "I'm getting too old for this crap."

Paige smirked. "Whatever, Grandma."

"I am a grandmother, Paige, and I will remind you, so are you."

"Any idea where Sekhmet could be hiding?" asked Paige, ignoring the friendly jab.

Piper shrugged.

Phoebe pulled a face. "Uh—maybe?"

Both of her sisters looked at her expectantly.

"Well, there's this—well of anger and anticipation off to the west. It could be any of them, though, and Annie made it very clear we're not to engage Apep alone."

"The sooner we defeat these monsters, the sooner we can all get back to our family. I'm not wasting time hemming and hawing about which Ennead we vanquish first. Lead the way," said Piper.

Phoebe looked at Paige who shrugged and nodded. Bobbing her head, Phoebe strode in the direction of the tallest mountain in the area. They crossed out of the area protected by the curse and entered the forest. As they trekked further from the house, the temperature dropped incrementally. About a mile up the impromptu trail snow started to fall. The gentle breeze picked up intensity, and they had to bend against the gale or risk being thrown on their backsides. Tree creaked and groaned against the unnatural strain. The snow grew so thick the sisters linked hands to keep from losing each other. They bumped into a recently toppled oak tree and stopped.

"This is crazy," yelled Phoebe over the wailing wind.

Paige nodded in agreement unsure the others could see her.

Piper squinted her eyes and tried to spot a figure amongst the flurries. "She's close."

Phoebe peered out over the fallen tree. "We can't fight in this. Piper, we've got to turn back."

Piper shook her head. "No! We're ending this, now, today. YOU HEAR ME YOU BITCH!"

The swirling snow settled to their right, and a beautiful woman dressed in an elegant silver dress clapped her hands. The woman's eyes shone with a predatory desire. Phoebe and Paige took a small step back, but Piper stood her ground, glaring at the woman. The storm slowly slowed.

"There's no need for name calling, Piper," purred Sekhmet.

Piper narrowed her eyes. "You've got three seconds to clear out and never come back."

Sekhmet raised her hand in front of her lips and blew into her palm. A crystal clear ball the size of a grapefruit formed in a swirl of snowflakes. Sekhmet lowered her hand and let the ice ball float in front of her. "I have no desire to stay in this backwater county any longer than I have to. Unfortunately, you have something my—hmm—my father wants rather desperately. His treaty with your family will continue to stand if you simply hand back what is rightfully his. After all, you can hardly control something that powerful, and uncontrolled power has a nasty habit of getting people killed."

Piper lifted one hand and twitched two fingers. The ice ball shattered, spraying Sekhmet in tiny sharp shards. Small cut on the female Ennead's face began to ooze blood. Piper lowered her hand, placing it on her hip. "Time's up."

Sekhmet ran a finger over a particularly large cut above her left cheek. She studied the smear of blood and licked her finger clean slowly. "Such a pity."

The ground beneath the sisters trembled.

"Dive, NOW!" screamed Piper, throwing herself to on side.

Massive icicles burst out of the ground. Piper rolled up onto her knees and threw out her hands. A hollow gong echoed out across the valley. Gone was the silver dress. Instead, Sekhmet was dressed in ancient armor made out of perfectly polished silver. A thin coat of tan fur replaced her porcelain skin, and her eyes, while still steely blue, were catlike. She rolled her head from side to side and folded her arms across her armor-plated chest. More icicles sprang out of the ground, forcing all three sisters further apart.

Piper placed her hand on the ground and concentrated. The whole area began to hum. Piper spread her fingers out and yelled. The icicles cracked. Paige knelt down beside Phoebe.

"Do it," she whispered.

Phoebe closed her eyes and held onto Paige's hand. The humming grew louder. Slowly the broken pieces of ice drifted off the ground. Sekhmet grunted, clearly thrown by the something.

"Hurry," hissed Piper. "I can't keep this up forever."

Sekhmet conjured a fire ball and threw it at Piper. Paige waved her hand and orbs the attack out of the way. The old oak caught alit. The ice shards rose up high into the air. Phoebe opened her eyes. She pointed her finger at Sekhmet. Like a deadly set of talons, the shards formed up in four columns and hurtled at the Ennead. Sekhmet covered her face and screamed. A ball of energy washed out from her, knocking the Charmed Ones flat on their backs and obliterated the remaining ice.

Sekhmet charged at Piper. Piper threw out her hands and flickered her wrists. The Ennead's right shoulder turned into a bloody stump, leaving a fine mist of blood in her wake. Sekhmet struck out with her remaining upper limb, latching into Piper's neck. She lifted the Halliwell matriarch high into the air and tossed her aside. Piper collapsed onto the ground.

"Paige, the crystals," yelled Phoebe.

Paige glared at Sekhmet. "Crystals. Circle."

Five crystals orbed in around Sekhmet, forming a cage. The two sisters scrambled to their feet and rushed over to Piper.

"Piper?" called Phoebe.

Piper groaned and rolled onto her back. "I'm ok," she muttered.

"Good, because that cage isn't going to hold our friend for very long," said Paige, eyeing the cage. Sekhmet pounded against the energy.

"Anakin thought the Power of Three would be enough," said Piper, sitting up.

"Clearly he was wrong."

Piper shook her head. "No. He can't be."

One of the crystals cracked, sending a shockwave of energy over them.

"We need to go. Now."

Piper let Phoebe pulled her onto her feet. "We blessed those crystals."

Paige nodded. "Yes, obviously."

"If we destroyed them could we direct the explosion?"

"What?"

Piper rubbed her throat. "Those crystals are charged by the Power of Three. So why can't we release all that energy off at once?"

Paige's eyes widened. "Because it'll kill us. There's no way to direct an explosion like that. Not without Wyatt's shield."

"I could do it," said Phoebe.

Paige shook her head. "No, Pheebs. Those crystals are about ten times as strong as the ones we used to trap the Source."

Phoebe nodded. "I can do it. Do you think you can blow them up all at once, Piper?"

A second crystal cracked.

Piper looked at Paige. "You can make an orb bubble."

"It's not the same as Wyatt's shield."

"We've got to try."

A third crystal gave way. Sekhmet roared.

Paige accepted defeat. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Ready?" asked Piper. Her sisters nodded. "Three. Two. One."

She flicked her wristed, and the world turned white.

* * *

Wyatt stumbled, clutching his chest. "Mom," he whispered.

Chris and Prue shared a look of concern. "What," started Prue.

"No time," yelled Chris, separating yet another demon's head from its body with his sword.

Wyatt blasted apart a harpy. "Go find her and the aunts."

Chris stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"It's not good, Chris. Go find Mom. You and Prue. Now."

"What about you?" asked Prue.

Wyatt's eyes flickered over to his wife in wolf form. "We'll be fine until you get back."

"Wy, Annie…"

"Chris! Get Mom, Phoebe, and Paige back to the house. I promise you, we'll be fine. They aren't."

Chris gritted his teeth. "Fine." He and Prue orbed out.

Sarah ripped apart the last warlock in their vicinity and transformed back to her human form. "Wy?"

Wyatt hugged her. "Something happened to my mom and aunts."

"You should…"

Wyatt shook his head. "No. We need to find Apep. I've got a feeling we're running out of time."

Sarah hugged him tighter. "Zach?"

"I can't sense him. He's shut himself off, but Matt's—he's not any worse."

"That'll be because Zachary and the elemental brat managed to vanquish Montu," hissed Apep slipping out of shadows.

Wyatt automatically pushed Sarah behind him, but Sarah stepped right back to be at his side. Apep chuckled.

"Montu is dead?"

Apep nodded. "A surprise, but not a great loss."

Wyatt's hand twitched. Apep clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Really, now, Wyatt. I have no need to kill you. Do not force my hand."

"Then what are you doing here?"

Apep's eyes focused on Sarah. "I am sorry it had to be your mother."

Sarah's hands balled into fists. Wyatt placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Leave her alone," he warned.

Apep smiled and directed his attention on Wyatt. "But of course, neither I nor Lucifer have any ill will toward the shaman community. They have always known the balance of the world. I am disappointed the champions of Wicca are not as educated."

"I'm educated enough. We've met Lucifer's brothers. We know exactly what he is," snarled Wyatt.

"You have heard a story told from one point of view. You have not heard the whole story, and you certainly do not know the truth. I never had the pleasure of meeting Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael, but I do know they liked to live in a world of black and white. The truth is never so simple." Apep flicked aside an insect buzzing by his ear.

Wyatt stiffened, every muscle ready for action. "What do you want?"

"I told you last night, or I told your brother. Lucifer placed a lot of effort into molding Zachary. He wants the boy back at his side. Give him to me, and we will leave you and your families in peace. Join us and you won't even need to lose your boy. Lucifer will welcome you happily. You could return to the city and live as royalty, not a care in the world."

"I've done the evil thing. It's not all it's cracked up to be," spat Wyatt.

Apep laughed. "Believe what you want. Continue to accept the delusion that killed your brother and tore your father away from you. It matters little. Once Lucifer is done, it will matter even less. Now, your son."

Sarah growled, "Never."

Apep sighed. "Pity."

Before either could react Apep's human form vanished. Wyatt spun around, bringing up his shield. Sarah transformed into a wolf. Bushes rustled, and birds chirped nervously. Wyatt summoned Excalibur. Shadows shifted. Branches swayed in the wind. Silence descended on the clearing.

A snake struck out, smashing against the blue transparent dome of energy. Only a snake did not do justice as a description of the monster. The serpentine creature was beyond massive. It's head dwarfed the average sedan vehicle, and the massive mouth was lined by white sharp fangs easily the size of a man. The green and gray head was attached to an even larger and muscular body. Wyatt stared up at the snake as it pulled back for a second strike. It towered above the trees.

"Shit."

Apep struck again. Sparks flew off Wyatt's shield. Small scorch marks marred the cream underbelly. Sweat broke out across Wyatt's brow. The snake struck again, dropping him to one knee. It felt like a bus hit him, which was not far from the truth. His shield shifted inward. He raised his hand and pushed the shield back out, but his arm shook as he did so. A fourth strike caused the shield to flicker. There was nothing he could do to stop Apep. Eventually, sooner than he cared to admit, Apep would break through his shield. He doubted even Excalibur would do much damage. Sarah charged out of the shield distracting Apep from a fifth strike.

"Sarah, no!" yelled Wyatt.

He watched as Sarah sprinted up the snake's back and racked at the scales. Apep shook, causing a miniature earthquake and dislodged Sarah. With lightning fast reactions Apep struck at Sarah, but she was a wolf. Apep momentum propelled his head through the trunk of a tree. Sarah snapped at his body, drawing blood. Wyatt dropped his shield. He summoned a bolt of electricity and threw it at Apep. The massive body convulsed away from the pain.

Wyatt drove home his advantage. He threw Excalibur. The enchanted blade sliced through scale and flesh with the ease, embedding itself to the hilt. Apep's roars of pain were deafening. Somehow he dislodged the blade and stuck again. Sarah jumped out of the way but landed awkwardly. Apep rose up; an evil grin spread across his face.

"NO!" yelled Wyatt, orbing between Apep and Sarah.

"It doesn't matter who dies fist."

Apep opened his gaping mouth and attacked. Something large, not as large as Apep, and hair plowed out of the forest and knocked Apep aside. The thing pounded on the snake as the snake curled and swiped. The two vanished behind uprooted trees and piled of earth. Wyatt turned his attention to his wife.

"Sarah," he started but stopped in shock to see his wife back to normal. The look of horror on her face twisted at his guts.

"Zach," she muttered.

Wyatt frowned. "What?"

"That—that was Zach. He's a naagolishii."

The two massive battling beasts reappeared. The snake was wrapped around the hairy ape-like being's lower body. Zach had his powerful hands clamped tightly around Apep's jaw. His additional two arms ripped and clawed at any part of Apep they could reach. Both howled in pain and something more primordial.

"That's a naagolishii?" whispered Wyatt.

Sarah nodded. "One of its forms."

"One?" gulped Wyatt.

"It's a true shapeshifter. It can take whatever shape is necessary to complete its objectives, although they tend to prefer animals over humans or objects."

Wyatt watched in awe as one of Zach's hands gouged out a large section of Apep's right eye. "That's Zach?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, that's a naagolishii."

"But you just…"

"Once you're a naagolishii, you can never be yourself," said Sarah mournfully.

Apep managed to dislodge Zach, throwing him across the clearing. The serpent rippled and transformed back into a man. He conjured a miniature sun and threw it at Zach. Zach's body caught on fire long before the supernova of a fire ball hit him. He screamed in agony and started to laugh in a deep rumbling voice. The fire ball vanished.

When he spoke it was a terrible thing to hear. It was not a human voice, but a collection of animalistic grunts and groans that resembled English. "You'll have to do better than that, Apep."

Apep dropped to one knee. Wyatt could see one of his eyes was bloodshot. The flesh from part of his arm flapped about uselessly. The impressions of teeth and fangs marked his neck. "Enough, Zachary."

Zach looked at him like a cat playing with a mouse. "I think not."

Zach transformed into a pure white wolf. He pounced on Apep. The old man yelled then screamed. His screams turned to gurgles. Wyatt looked in horror as Zach stood back with a man's windpipe dangling out of his mouth. Apep's remains burst into flames. Zach released the trachea as it too turned to ash. Then he faced his parents with pitch black eyes.

"Zach?"

Zach growled.

Orbs jingled, and Anakin appeared with his back to Zach. "Wy?"

Wyatt jerked his head at Zach.

Anakin turned around and spotted the white wolf. "Zach."

The wolf tilted its head to one side. Slowly one eye and then the other turned blue. The wolf shook itself and charged out of the clearing.

"ZACH!" yelled Wyatt.

Anakin grabbed hold of him. "No, Wy. He'll be back. Right now, Mom needs us."

Sarah joined them. "How?"

"Halliwell stubbornness," smirked Anakin as he orbed them all back to the house. The battle finally over.

* * *

AN: So what did you think? Was it worth it? I am truly sorry about the delay and the ridiculously long wait. I'm hoping to get back on a schedule provided life doesn't get in the way. Let me know what you think! I love hearing for you guys.

Until next time.


	13. Worth All Of The Pain

AN: Hopefully the longer chapter makes up for the later posting.

* * *

WORTH ALL OF THE PAIN

Sophia tiptoed out of her room, cringing when one of the floor panels creaked beneath the bare skin of her foot. She twisted her head and glanced back over her shoulder, holding her breath. Rebecca shifted and rolled over, continuing to snore softly. She let out a soft, short sigh, filled with sweet relief.

It was still very early. The sun barely peeked over the tops of the mountains. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and continued to creep down the passage. The house was silent, almost too quiet. Despite the lack of evidence, she doubted she was the only person awake. The adults almost certainly were taking turns on guard duty. That was when they were not hovering around the injured in the living room downstairs, which had been hastily converted into a makeshift infirmary.

No one who ventured out of the house the previous day returned unharmed. The worst hurt, though, were Mrs. Halliwell, Kenny, and Anakin. She was not sure how each was hurt. Everyone was too busy trying to keep them all alive to explain the situation to her, but she intellectually understood the severity of the injuries if Zach's father could not heal them.

She passed by a window and paused. The forest outside was still ablaze in spots. Somewhere out there was her best friend. At least, she hoped he was still out there and not captured or worse dead.

The day before was mostly a blur in her mind. She remembered coming downstairs and listening to the absurd idea to defeat the Ennead. Shock settled in when she watched her boyfriend, best friend, and their cousin advance and say a few words over the Book of Shadows. Nothing spectacular happened after the incantation, but both Mrs. Halliwell and Anakin agreed it had worked. Before anyone could argue further, or at all, Anakin vanished, and the battle began. When Anakin returned, he had the little children and those without powers, like her, return to the basement. They were joined an hour or so later by the mortal parents.

Her heritage as a witch hunter meant she was sensitive to magic. It was that sense which first attracted her to Zach and his family, not that she had understood the reason at first. When he rescued her from some teasing by the popular girls at school, their friendship was cemented. Finding out about her heritage troubled her especially once she realized the Halliwells were the actual Halliwells of myth and legend. Luckily, her father had already changed their family's mission. He approved of her friendship with Zach; he had been less thrilled when she announced she was dating Matt.

Her vague connection to magic let her know when a significant power vanished from the area. The first time it happened her legs gave way, and she could not breathe. Every time after made her heart stop, before restarting with a renewed vigor to pound its way out of her chest.

Several nerve-racking hours after she sensed the third death, they were released from their shelter. It was late in the evening, possibly even past the magical hour of midnight. She was shocked to see a pale and battle worn Mrs. Mitchell at the top of the stairs. She assumed only Anakin would be able to remove the wards. The lack of his presence brought a lump to her throat, and an invisible fist tightened around her heart. He was one of the most powerful witches present; if he was dead or injured, then it did not bode well for Zach or Matt.

All negative thoughts of the past few months vanished the moment she spotted Matt. He was standing toward the back of the living room covered in dust, ash, and blood. She ran over to him and wrapped her arms tightly around him, breaking down in tears. He returned the hug just as fiercely and kissed her on the crook of her neck. He did not speak. They did not have to say a word.

The moment only lasted a few seconds. Some of the adults took charge, herding their children and any other stragglers off to bed or the shower. No one was allowed to remain on the first floor unless they were gravely injured or required to help with the healing. She was forcibly separated from Matt; he remained downstairs.

Around midnight, Matt's mother brought her and Rebecca some sandwiches and glasses of water. Sophia immediately bombarded the woman with questions; her normal level of respect and subservience to adults evaporating due to the craving for knowledge. It was then they learned the full cost of their victory: Piper and Kenny were barely clinging onto life, Anakin was in a coma, "they think," and Zach was missing. They were told to stay in the room for the night at least.

Sophia ordinarily was good about obeying adults, especially in dangerous situations. She broke rules and snuck out after curfew like any normal teenager, but on the whole, she was a model citizen and a good Christian. Waiting hours to hear more news after the events of the past few days pushed her to her breaking point. She had to know what was going on. She needed to know her friends were safe. She wanted to see her boyfriend, to feel his strong comforting arms around her again.

"You should be asleep."

Sophia muffled a scream and hopped in fright.

Matt's father cocked an eyebrow and stepped further into the corridor, carrying a half asleep baby Parker. "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." He sounded exhausted.

Sophia blushed furiously and pulled at the bottom of her sleeping attire. "I—er…"

Mr. Halliwell kept his stern gaze on her eyes. "I should send you back to your room, but I dare say my son has seen you in much less."

Sophia covered her face with one hand and muttered an incoherent excuse and apology.

Chuckling gently, Mr. Halliwell adjusted Parker in his arms who was getting fussy. "She's ready for her next feeding; otherwise, I would be more willing to question your motives. Hurry up and slip into Matt's room. We've got creatures guarding the hallways that aren't known for asking questions before killing."

Sophia gulped. "Um…what?"

"Uriel saw fit to send a small army of lesser angels to take care of guard duty while we recover." It seemed that he was going to continue his explanation when Parker started to cry, softly at first. "I better get a move on before she wakes the whole house," he said apologetically and headed off in the direction of the main stairs.

Sophia looked down at her attire and groaned. There was no way she did not reveal more than Matt's father ever needed to see. As luck would have it she was wearing a pair of her most modest underwear, so it was not as bad as it could have been. They had all gone to the beach the summer before all hell broke loose. She had worn a bikini then. The thought of Mr. Halliwell telling his wife the story, though, gave her pause for a moment, a brief moment. Shaking her head slightly, she continued forward until she reached Matt's bedroom door. She knocked softly and tried the door handle. The door opened silently.

She squeezed through the small gap and carefully closed the door behind her. The room smelled of Matt: lemons, lilac, and oak; it was a mixture unlike any other. Shuffling forward, she stubbed her toe on a loose floorboard. A small unfriendly growl broke the silence. Pax, Zach's brown-and-white Shih Tzu, bounced off her small maroon bed at the foot of Matt's own bed. She barked once, recognized Sophia, and wagged her tail.

Matt groggily rolled over. "Huh? What?"

Even half asleep, he managed to summon a potion into his hand. From the off green coloring Sophia identified it as a basic stunning potion. It would not work on an upper-level demon, but the resulting light show would buy Matt critical microseconds to spring into action.

"Pax?"

The little dog barked happily and raced over to Matt's bed. She jumped up nimbly and settled down next to his right hand. Matt dropped the potion and scratched her behind the ears. He stretched and scooted to one side, offering Sophia a spot. She hesitantly sat down and pulled her knees up beneath for chin.

"I had to see you," she whispered, hugging her bare legs.

Matt finished petting Pax and sat up with a groan. The blankets slipped off his chest, and she saw the dozen or more scratches covering his chest. His left shoulder boasted an ugly looking burn covered in a putrid smelling salve.

"Oh, Matt."

Matt shrugged and grinned which turned into a grimace. "It's nothing. My uncle will heal it in the morning. They were just to—too busy last night."

She laid her cheek on her knees to keep eye contact. "What happened?" Her voice barely audible even in the stillness of the dim room.

"I don't know what happened to my grandmother, but it must have been pretty bad. Aunt Phoebe and Paige weren't looking too great either. I think whatever they did to vanquish Sekhmet backfired a bit."

Matt poked Pax. The dog gave him the most hurt look but hopped off the bed and lay down on her bed with an audible huff. He wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her up so that they sat side by side with him still mostly under the covers.

"Anakin used up all his energy negating the wards. It drained him dangerously close to exhaustion, and then he went out to fetch Wyatt—I don't know the details. It was something—I don't know—they were talking in whispers about Zach. Whatever happened it depleted Anakin of the very last of his magic. They're not sure how to help him. Uriel showed up, but that was when my mom decided it was time to send me and Rick to bed."

Matt sighed and rested his head on Sophia's shoulder. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

"Kenny was attacked by Montu. He attacked us all, but Kenny got the worst of it. Then something changed in Zach. It felt like he became darker, and Kenny blasted Montu with something. When I woke up Zach was gone, and Kenny looked like death himself. I orbed him and Rick back here."

Sophia felt tears prick her eyes. "I was so worried I'd lose you. I felt each Ennead die, but I didn't know it was them. Matt—M—m—Matt…"

Matt licked his lips, removing his head from her shoulder. "You didn't lose me. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

Hiccoughing, Sophia buried her face in her knees. Her hair curtained around her bare skin. "After m—my d—da—da—d—d—dad…"

"Soph, I'm so sorry about you dad," whispered Matt. His hand brushed against her shoulder

"I—I—kn—know…" She took a deep shuddering breath. "I knew in my head it wasn't your fault—your family's fault, but my heart—he was the best dad. He was my daddy. It hurt—seeing you with your family."

Matt kept quiet listening to her talk about her dad. With every word his heart broke a bit more. It confirmed for him how insensitive he was. He was the worst boyfriend. There were excuses; there always were. He had been dealing with the aftermath of his capture, and the war raged on around them. He lost family. Zach had been missing. None of the reasons felt worthy as he saw his girlfriend falling apart before his eyes. This amazing and strong woman was completely shattered and shaking uncontrollably.

He pulled her closer, and she snuggled up to him. Easing himself back down as to not aggravate any of his injuries, they ended laying down with her head tucked beneath his on his bare chest. He slowed his breathing, keeping as still as possible. Her tangled hair tickled him, and he smiled sadly. After a few minutes, her breathing steadied.

"Soph?" he asked softly after ten minutes of silence.

With no reply, he reasoned she had fallen asleep. He motioned with his finger. The blanket beneath her eased itself out and floated over her, covering her. She unconsciously snuggled closer to him. With a profound exhalation, Matt closed his eyes and also drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Chris sat in the comfortable rocking chair at the feet of Anakin's 'hospital' bed. The scene brought back horrible memories of one of the worst nights of his life. He could recall every moment of those dark hours, the terror in Prue's voice and eyes, Wyatt's fury and self-hatred, his mother's heart-wrenching tears. This time, he was the only one of his siblings sitting vigil over their baby brother. Wyatt was keeping their mother and Kenny stable. Prue was helping repair the superficial damage to the lodge. In his arms Parker shifted and stretched her tiny arms, clumsily bumping her fist against her chubby cheeks. He chuckled morosely.

"What would you have become Annie? Would we have even more rugrats running around now? You were always so good with Zach. I was so sure you and Lucien would have a hoard of kids." Chris rocked slowly in the chair. The motion settled Parker back into a deep slumber. "The family was never the same after that day. It set us all on the paths we're on now, do you know that? I'm not sure Ser and I would have stayed together. We love each other, but love isn't all that makes a relationship work. Wyatt and Sarah would have made it regardless, but Wyatt would have taken over Mom's mini-club empire. You know he was never big on the whole work ethic. And Prue—Prue would never have left."

Serena knocked on the door and smiled. "Morning."

Chris smiled back. "Morning, beautiful."

Serena took a seat on the couch they had pushed off to the side. Chris hid a smirk; she was blushing.

"How's he doing?"

"Same as before. Uriel did all he could. He said it's now up to Anakin if he returns or not." Chris heaved a heavy sigh.

"How's the little princess? Did she get any sleep?" asked Serena, changing the subject.

Chris leaned his head back and rested his tired eyes. "An hour or two. How'd you sleep?"

Serena pulled her legs up on the couch. "Not as well as when you're next to me."

"Neither of us would have gotten a wink with her."

"I know, honey," said Serena a bit defensively.

Chris cleared his throat. "Sorry. I'm—I'm exhausted. Between the number of demon vanquishes yesterday, and the hours of potion making and healing last night. It feels like I need to sleep for a week to be myself again. I've not been this tired since my residency."

Serena grimaced. "Those weren't happy times."

Chris laughed. "No, they weren't."

"Do you know Sophia is in bed with our son?"

Chris nodded once. "Nothing was going to happen, but they needed to talk."

"I'd prefer that happen in the open and not behind closed doors," said Serena in a defeated tone.

"Matt's a good boy, Ser, and Sophie is…" He yawned loudly. "Well, we've got nothing to worry about there, at least today."

Serena got up. "Let me take Parker. You need to at least grab a few hours of sleep."

Chris started to shake his head, but a second yawn broke through his self-control and lost him the argument. He carefully lifted the sleeping Parker up and into Serena's waiting arms before standing himself. He stretched his arms and groaned.

"I'll go get a cup of coffee. Someone has to be here to watch Annie."

"I can do that," reasoned Serena.

Chris kissed her on the cheek. "Sorry, sweetheart, but it needs to be someone magical."

Serena's lips thinned. "Then I'll get your sister or brother or your one of your aunts. You need to sleep."

Chris studied the dead still Anakin. He was barely even breathing. "I'll be…"

"No!" said Serena firmly. "You're going to bed. I'll get someone. Don't worry."

Chris's shoulders slumped. "You're the boss."

Serena followed him until he reached the stairs. She watched him ascend them and round the corner before heading into the kitchen. It was empty, but she spotted movement in the garden. There she found Prue, Pyrrha, and Paisley standing around one of the largest cauldrons she had seen in real life.

"Morning," she called from the porch. Parker woke up the moment she stepped out of the kitchen. For the moment, the baby girl was content watching the new shapes float over her.

Prue stopped what she was doing and greeted her sister-in-law warmly. "Morning. Did we wake her?"

Serena shook her head. "No, no, she's been restless all night. What are you guys doing?"

Pyrrha added a jug of something to the cauldron. "None of us are powerful enough conjurers to repair the house so this potion gives us a bit of a boost."

"Right," said Serena. "Have you seen anyone else up?"

Paisley flicked aside a stray hair. "The men have run out to town to buy breakfast. Sarah just left to check in on her mom's family."

"Wyatt's still with our mom," said Prue with a frown. "Why?"

Serena bounced Parker from side to side, keeping her preoccupied. "Chris needed to get some sleep, but that left Anakin without someone checking up on him…"

Prue nodded. "Um—I'd go check upstairs. See if Phoebe or Paige are free."

Serena pursed her lips. "Ok, thanks."

Pyrrha said, "Prue, you can…"

"No, it'll take three of us."

Paisley's brow furrowed. "Seriously, Prue, sweetie, it'll be fine. Pyrrha and I can easily manage repairing a bunch of windows."

Prue threw her arms up in the air. "Fine."

'Thanks," said Serena when Prue joined her.

Prue grunted. "Yeah, sure."

They reached the room, and Prue froze in the doorway. Her breath quickened and became shallower. She shook her head and stepped forward. She swallowed hard and wrung her hands in a nervous tic. "Right, um, good."

Parker started to whimper. Serena quieted her gently. "It's breakfast time for the princess."

Prue nodded absentmindedly.

"I'll be right back." Serena waited for a response, but Prue was lost in her own world.

Alone, Prue sat down on the couch and stared at Anakin. She gained control over her breathing, taking slower and deeper steadying breaths. The scene was all too familiar. She was thrown back to her teenaged self, and the sense of helplessness overwhelmed her all over again. It had been years since she had let herself reflect on that night. The promises made in the aftermath of the near tragedy were never far from her mind.

"You better not leave us this time, Anakin. I don't think I could handle losing you a third time," she muttered into the stuffy air.

Unable to bear the morbidity, she stood up and walked over to the windows. Thick dusty drapes hung heavily over the windows. Shards of glass were piled on the floor and crunched beneath her shoes. Heaving slightly, she managed to open one set of curtains The resulting cloud of dust sent her off into a coughing fit. The second set opened easily and showed more signs of wear and tear.

This side of the house looked out toward the main house. There were signs of the battle, but they were easily overlooked. The faint familiar fragrance of a rainstorm drifted into the room along with a gentle cool breeze. Prue hugged herself and shivered.

"This is the last place I thought I'd find you," said Kyle in a concerned whisper.

Prue turned around, wiping aside a teardrop. "You're back," she sniffed.

Kyle nodded, entering the room. Carefully avoiding Anakin's bed, he closed the gap between them and embraced her tightly. She returned the hug. "How's everyone doing?" He murmured softly into her hair.

Prue shook her head unwilling to talk at that exact moment. She kept her head against his broad chest and gripped him tighter. He held her still, resting his chin on the top of her head. A comfortable silence lingered between them as they stood by the window. Eventually, Prue pulled away and kissed him, gratefully. A small weak smile tugged upward on her lips.

"Anything eventful going on in town?"

Kyle led them over to the couch and sat down before answering. "It's as dull and nondescript as when we left it yesterday. I don't think Lucifer wants word getting out you killed three of his lieutenants."

A bright shimmer buzzed passed the door. Kyle reached for the gun at his waist.

"An exousia, one of Uriel's guardian angels," explained Prue calmly. "They're here until we get the wards back up. He's placed four seraphim at the boundaries of the property."

Kyle relaxed. "They would have been helpful before yesterday," he scoffed.

"It's complicated," said Prue with a hint of disapproval.

"Did you know Nathan was a SEAL?" asked Kyle.

Prue nodded. "Yeah, actually. It's how he and Patty met. What's weirder is he and Michael knew each other before that. They worked together or something before Nate joined the Navy."

Both of Kyle's eyebrows shot upward. "You're joking."

"Nope. Crazy, right?"

Anakin coughed, causing both Prue and Kyle to jump. "The weirdest part is he was one of my charges," croaked the blond.

Prue threw herself off the couch and on top of her brother, covering his face in kisses. "Thank, God. Thank, God. You're ok. Thank you!"

Anakin smiled and groaned. "I won't be much longer with you crashing me."

Prue smacked him playfully. "I'm not that heavy!"

Anakin continued to smile and sat up a bit. "Alright, Kyle?"

Kyle nodded. "We're surviving."

"Right. Where's Mom?"

Prue and Kyle exchanged looks.

"Um…"

Anakin frowned expectantly waiting for a response.

* * *

Sarah stood in her childhood kitchen unmoving. It still smelled like her mother. She could close her eyes and imagine her mother standing at the stove or pointing an accusatory finger at her for staying out too late or having a boy in her room. She hated how tense their relationship had been. She had hated her mother for making her a shape shifter. She wanted to be a shaman like her father. Now, she could not imagine losing that connection to her mother.

Michael walked in through the back door. His face was covered in beads of sweat. Dark dirt marred his jeans where he had wiped his hands. He bowed his head as a way of greeting his sister and collapsed into the nearest chair.

"It's done."

Sarah took the seat next to him and held one of his hands between her hands. "Thank you."

Michael nodded absentmindedly. "Aunty and Uncle are almost here. They'll want to know what to tell the council."

Astidi Anderson was their maternal uncle, and their mother's second-in-command on the tribal council after their father's death. He would be difficult. He had a healthy distrust of all outsiders, especially Europeans. He had always been against letting the Halliwells stay on the Compound. Without their mother's commanding presence to keep him in line, it would be a battle to continue the current arrangement.

Diana Anderson was their mother's baby sister. Unable to have kids of her own, she had always spoiled Sarah and Michael when they were younger. She was more reserved than either of her siblings and, as a result, usually more level headed. As secretary of the tribal council, she was held in high esteem. If she had the ambition to take on a higher leadership role, Sarah doubted she would have any problem obtaining it. Their problem was she always yielded to her more boisterous and older siblings.

"Dad always made sure mom had a current will on file with the council outlying her desires, right?"

Michael nodded tiredly. "That sounds like him."

Sarah patted his hand. "She'll have left the house to us. That'll be enough for the council. The rest doesn't matter."

Michael looked at her, dejected. "I can't believe she's gone."

"I know," replied Sarah, her voice catching in her throat.

A beat-up old blue truck pulled up in front of the kitchen's window. Sarah stood up. "You don't have to be here, Mikey. I'm sure Layla and David want to spend time with you."

Michael joined her and held her hand. "Nope. Not getting rid of me that easily, sis. I sent Layla and David up to spend the day with your family. I didn't think they'd mind too much."

Sarah hid her relief; she did not want to face Astidi alone. Together brother and sister left the kitchen to greet their guests on the porch. Diana hobbled along with the help of a thick wooden cane. Astidi imperiously surveyed the grounds, paying particular attention to the destroyed forest before following his sister up the short walkway.

"Sarah. Michael," he greeted stiffly.

Michael extended his hand, but Astidi ignored it. Diana brushed it aside and hugged him.

"Sorry for your loss, little wolf," she whispered.

Sarah politely indicated Astidi was welcome to enter. He bobbed his head and narrowed his eyes. "Where is my sister?"

Michael stuffed his hands into his pockets. Sarah placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mikey buried her next to our father."

"Before an examination could be performed! And her funeral rites?"

Michael gritted his teeth.

Again, Sarah kept her cool. "We did what we believe she would have wanted, Uncle."

Diana spoke up before her brother. "I'm sure you paid her all due deference. They are her children, brother."

Astidi's chest ballooned outward. "She was our chief. It was for the elders and council members to decide…"

"Let's go inside," interrupted Sarah. "I have some tea drawing, already."

Astidi's lips thinned, but he entered the house without a word. Diana let Michael follow him. She caught Sarah by the waist and gave her a meaningful look. Sarah paused at the threshold.

"Your mother's choices of late were not very popular. Allowing outsiders to stay on tribal land has many rebelling. Now, this…" She paused and looked out over the grounds. "No one outside the family knows the true history of our heritage. The idea of a naagolishii is nothing more than a ghost story told to the young ones around a campfire. My brother will use the circumstances to his advantage."

Sarah sighed. "I know, Aunty."

Diana looked at her directly in the eyes. "You are the tribe's new guardian. Do not forget that. You have authority and responsibility beyond the influence of the council."

Sarah remained silent.

"What is troubling you?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "My son. He's still out there—somewhere. Wyatt hasn't been able to track him. I can't sense him."

Diana closed her eyes and gripped tightly onto Sarah's forearm. "I would not worry about Zachary. I have a feeling he is right where he needs to be. The Twice Born will see to his return."

Sarah placed a hand over Diana's and squeezed it.

"We should go inside while the house is still standing."

Michael and Astidi sat at opposite ends of the kitchen table, glaring at each other. Diana shuffled over to the stovetop and busied herself with the kettle. Sarah took the seat at the table normally reserved for her mother. She hesitated for a moment, but a sense of calm made her continue with her chosen course of action.

"Have you spoken to the rest of the council members, Uncle?"

Astidi grunted. "Of course."

"My mother left a will in the care of the council," stated Sarah.

A moment of unearthly silence filled the small kitchen.

"We are aware of the will, but given the manner of my sister's death," started Astidi rigidly.

Sarah held up her hand putting an end to his excuses. "My mother's wishes following her death are outlined in the will. She was a smart woman, Uncle, I'm sure she considered all eventualities when she drafted it. I believe we should follow her wishes."

"The council will want…"

"No," said Michael harshly, "The council can go—." He pulled back his tone after a look at his sister. Strained, he continued, "This is a family matter. You won't turn my mom's death into a stepping stone and power grab."

Astidi scowled. When he spoke it was in a hard cold voice. "You barely even spoke to her, you ungrateful little shit."

Michael's face turned red.

Sarah cleared her throat and spoke loudly. "That's enough! Mikey, please. Uncle, you are in my house. Keep your tone and words cordial or you are welcome to leave."

Michael glared at his uncle and slammed his fist against the table.

Astidi faced Sarah; eye filled with fury. "This is the house of the head of the council."

Sarah shook her head. She spoke in a level voice but in a tone that left no room for interruptions. "It is not. This is not an ancestral home, nor are these lands part of the chief's allotment. The lands were my father's, and the house built under his orders."

Diana set a cup of tea in front of Astidi, hard. "She's not wrong, brother," she reasoned gently.

"You are going to allow those—those outsiders to remain here?" sputtered the indignant man.

Sarah nodded and smiled. "They are my family, uncle, as much as you are."

Astidi stood up so quickly his chair toppled over. "They are the reason your mother is dead!" He yelled.

"She died doing her duty to our tribe, defending us and the world against a great evil. She used her last breath to defend those 'outsiders' as you call them. I won't go against her conviction." The words of her aunt from minutes previous came back to her. "As the tribe's guardian, its defender, I have an absolute right to grant sanctuary to whomever I deem deserves it."

Astidi knocked his cup of tea aside. "You spell our doom."

"No. I believe I'm giving us the best chance of survival. You know the oral histories as well as anyone I know. Do you really think Lucifer is a friend to us? How long after he's taken over will we last, holed up and friendless? The last time the tribes faced an evil half this dangerous they created five great guardians. I've faced Lucifer's servants, and even if three of the families weren't lost to us we'd stand no chance. The Halliwells are our only hope, the world's only hope. Any help I can offer them, I'll give freely. I only hope the tribe will do likewise."

Astidi stared at her in disbelief. "You are willing to defy the council?"

Sarah glanced subtly at Diana. The old woman had a hint of a smile on her wrinkled face. "The Halliwells, my family, are staying. The council can accept that as fact or not, but it will not change my mind."

Astidi nodded. "So be it. Come, Diana, we have a meeting to attend."

Diana shot her and Michael a grin before following the livid Astidi out of the kitchen. Michael sipped his tea, grinning like a madman.

"God, I wish dad was alive to see that."

* * *

"I'm coming!" exclaimed Wyatt.

Anakin shook his head for the hundredth time. "Wy, it's too dangerous."

Wyatt threw his hands up in exasperation. "You just woke up from a coma. He's my son!"

"Coma or not, you're not coming," said Anakin firmly.

"I'll just track you," argued Wyatt.

Anakin smirked. "I snap my fingers, and the wards spring to life. You won't be orbing anywhere even if you could sense me. Wyatt, please, this isn't me being hardheaded or emotionless. I know how much you and Sarah want to help. The problem is Zach's not fully Zach, not yet. He's done the impossible. He beat back the naagolishii. He just needs some help finding his way back out."

Wyatt pulled at his hair. "Out of what? He was a wolf. If he's stuck somewhere…"

"It's not a physical issue."

"Then what?" yelled Wyatt heatedly.

Anakin leaned against the railing. "When I helped Zach defeat the naagolishii, he developed this medieval valley inside his mind. He trapped the naagolishii inside the castle. Unleashing its power may have weakened—Oh, hell! Nothing I say will make any sense to you. Simply put Zach's core, his magical being is divided. I helped him do so, thinking it would be the only way to save him. Last night he showed me there's another way. I have to break the barrier. He tapped into the naagolishii's power too deeply."

Wyatt closed his eyes. "Won't—no one's come back from being a naagolishii."

Anakin nodded. "Correct. I cut Zach off from that part of him and that part of him from Zach."

"What happens when you reconnect the two?"

"With anyone else? The naagolishii would win."

Wyatt closed his eyes and looked away. His hand shook at his side. "I should be there." His voice was soft and weak.

"I can survive against a naagolishii, not for long—not anymore, but long enough, I hope. Wy, trust me, this is for the best."

Wyatt sucked in a deep trembling breath. "We barely survived when Pax died. I won't be able to handle losing Zach. Sarah won't…"

Anakin clapped his hand behind Wyatt's neck and rested his forehead against his brother's. "You won't lose your son. I promise."

"I don't want to lose you either," whispered Wyatt, looking his baby brother in the eyes.

Anakin smiled again. "Aw, you care."

Wyatt scrunched up his nose. "On second thoughts…"

"I'll be no more than an hour. Have lunch ready for us." Anakin started to orb away. "Actually, let someone else prepare lunch."

Wyatt chuckled, hiding tears. "Ass."

Anakin reappeared in a forest clearing high enough in the mountains that thick snow still covered everything. He blinked, and thick winter clothes covered his body. He studied the scene around him. A trail of paw prints broke the otherwise pristine white powdered ground. He followed the paw prints as they changed into footprints and led beneath a small overhang. He took a breath and stepped forward.

"Go away!"

Anakin stopped.

"Leave me alone."

Anakin shivered. "Zach?"

"GO!" Zach's voice echoed around him.

"Can't, kiddo. I promised your dad I'd bring you back."

Snow crunched beneath feet in the darkness. "He too scared to come himself?"

Shaking his head, Anakin tried to peer into the blackness without moving further into the cave. "No. This was my decision. He wanted to come. I thought it best we talk first."

Zach's laugh was hard and cutting. "You know the truth. You know what I am."

"You are my nephew."

"DON'T LIE!"

Anakin gulped. "Fine. I know what I did to you."

"The voices. Too many voices!"

Anakin dragged his fingers through his hair. "I did what I thought was best."

Zach whimpered. "You said—you said I beat him."

"And you did."

"NO! YOU DID! YOU LOCKED HIM UP! LET HIM RIP ME APART SLOWLY!"

A blast of fire rushed at him. Anakin threw himself to one side, landing hard on his shoulder. All the air knocked out of him; Anakin rolled onto his back struggling to breathe. Zach stalked out of the darkness. His eyes were sunken, his skin waxy. He looked like he had been living in the wild for months rather than less than a day.

"He wants me to rip your face off."

Anakin stayed on the ground and silent.

"I think he's right. What sort of monster does this to someone he claims to love?"

Anakin closed his eyes.

"LOOK AT ME!"

Anakin's eyes snapped open.

"Answer me," Zach hissed.

"I thought it was for the best. I—it was all I could think of at the time. Zach…"

"Don't plead. He doesn't like it when you beg," snarled Zach.

Anakin frowned. "Zach?"

"He's more stubborn than I anticipated. Lucky for me you like to keep secrets."

Anakin shuddered. "The naagolishii."

Zach smirked. "Catch on quick, don't you."

Anakin rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his knees. "Why are you here?"

"To torture you," said Zach sweetly.

"No, you'd want to be as far away from here as you could get."

Zach's dark eyes flashed. "Why?"

Anakin slowly stood up. "You know Lucifer has offered you the world. Joining up with him—it'd be the first thing you'd want to do."

"I don't like rules. Lucifer'd want to control me. Use me as his prized attack dog."

Anakin licked his lips. "So then why not set up your own kingdom in South America or Africa? You have no reason to stay here. You know your greatest threat is right here."

"You?" laughed Zach.

"No, Zach's mother, the current guardian of these lands," said Anakin with more confidence. "You haven't fled because you can't. Zach's tied you to this land."

Zach bared his teeth. "Lies."

"So then kill me." Anakin held up his arms and turned around. "I'm pretty much powerless."

Zach sneered. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Getting rid of a significant threat to your power," said Anakin matter-of-factly. "I may not be capable of destroying you, but I'd give you a hard run for your money. The battle would leave you vulnerable. It's not in your nature to pass up an opportunity like this."

Again Zach's eyes flashed and darkened. "You are no threat even at your full strength."

It was Anakin's turn to laugh. "Now, who is lying? I am twice born, empowered by Uriel, himself. Come on, I dare you."

Zach raised his hand. It morphed into a tiger's paw. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head. "NO!" he screamed.

Anakin stepped up closer. "My nephew's stronger than he looks."

Zach glared up at him. Anakin bent down and tapped Zach on the forehead with his middle finger. A golden sigil burned brightly for a moment and fell away. Zach screeched and yelled until his voice turned raw. His body contorted violently. Bones snapped under the strain. Each break echoed across the grounds. His skin undulated and ripped apart.

Anakin stepped back, aching to act but knowing he was powerless to help. His nephew arched hi back and let out a guttural howl loud enough to shake the snow from the nearby trees. He fell still. Anakin held his breath, praying. Minutes passed. Nothing moved. A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He had not even considered this a possibility. Zach could not just die.

Zach took a big gulp of air and coughed.

"Fucking hell," breathed Anakin in relief.

Zach rolled over still coughing weakly. "Annie?"

Anakin's smile broadened. "Hey," he breathed unable to articulate anything more complex.

"What happened?"

"You did the impossible," said Anakin still shaking with pent up spine-chilling adrenaline. "I'll explain it all, but let's get back to the house. There are some very anxious people waiting for you."

Zach crawled onto all fours and stood up with Anakin's help. "The naagolishii?"

Anakin shrugged. "You tell me."

"He's—he's gone. I can feel—I can't…how?"

Anakin wrapped an arm around his nephew. "Because you're you," he said cryptically and orbed them home.

* * *

Months passed. Early spring turned into the heat of summer. The lodge was repaired and new security measures were added. After some discussion, Michael and his family took over the main house rather than have Sarah, Wyatt, and Zach move into it. The grounds were also restored to their original beauty. Zach, Wyatt, and Kenny spent hours in the forest undoing the damage done by the Ennead and their demons. Security became a top priority for everyone. Weekly drills were performed to ensure everyone knew exactly what to do in the event of another attack. The kids were taught basic self-defense. The mortals, led by Kyle and Nathan, learned more advanced tactics and weaponry. Sophia's connection to the witch hunters gained them access to weapons capable of negating any advantages magic gave their enemies. Everything changed.

Kenny woke up early one morning and stretched his stiff and tired muscles as he yawned. The day before had been particularly grueling. Wyatt, Chris, and Anakin had designed an obstacle course for all the teens to tackle. Each obstacle was designed to push the specific person before it to his or her limits. He had no idea how Anakin had conjured the fire hydra, but the creature had nearly decapitated him before Kenny managed to vanquish it. He earned a nasty burn for his trouble. He groaned and rolled out of bed.

His bare feet slapped against the rough floor. It was too early to be moving around. He rubbed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to stifle another yawn. Grabbing some shorts and a gray V-neck he pattered out of his messy room and down the hall to the bathroom he shared with the rest of the teenaged boys. The door was almost closed, and light shone through the crack. He knocked gently.

"Hello?" called Zach from inside.

Kenny answered softly, "it's me."

The door opened a fraction more, and Zach poked his head out with a blue toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He was grinning.

"You made it."

Kenny stepped inside and closed the door. "Barely."

Zach stepped aside enough for him to have access to the single white sink basin. Kenny watched as Zach bent forward and spat out mint fresh foam. The older teen's hair was damp but brushed neatly. He clearly had already showered.

"What time did you wake up?" croaked Kenny, searching for his own toothbrush.

Zach pulled on a plain white t-shirt, which was a size too small for him. "Half-an-hour ago. I've got this thing about showering and brushing my teeth before doing anything in the morning. It's stupid; because, we're just going to come back and shower again, but…" he shrugged.

Kenny stared at himself in the mirror and cringed. He looked awful. "Why are we doing this again?"

"Because it's good for us. Matt, Danny, and Rick are already in excellent shape. We need to catch up."

Kenny shook his head, thinking Zach was hardly in bad shape. His chest was nothing but muscle. "But it's too early."

"Any later and the humidity will kill us." Zach took a deep breath. "I'm going to check on Drew."

Kenny nodded as he started brushing his teeth. He was halfway through when Andrew came in looking as annoyed about life as Kenny felt. Kenny handed him the toothpaste silently.

"I hate him. He never used to be a fucking morning person," grumbled Andrew.

Kenny felt awkward saying anything and settled for a shrug. He spat out his toothpaste remnants. His thick black hair looked very much like the perfect spot for birds to sleep in at night. He also knew from experience nothing but a good ducking in water would make the situation any better.

"No one's awake at this godforsaken hour," said Andrew, wiping some deodorant under his arms. "I'm not showering."

Kenny smirked. "Zach did."

"Zach's insane." Andrew checked his eyes in the mirror and turned on the tap. He splashed some water on his face. "There. Done."

Kenny pulled off the undershirt he wore to bed and replaced it with the gray one. He pulled on his shorts over his boxers and took one look at himself. "This is ridiculous."

"You're telling me," muttered Andrew, walking out of the bathroom.

They meet Zach in the kitchen. Kenny was unsurprised to see Anakin sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on tea.

"He got you both. I'm impressed," commented Anakin.

Zach rolled his eyes. "We'll be back in an hour."

Anakin nodded. "Stay clear of the southern border. There's still some glitch or two in the traps in that sector."

The air outside was already well on its way to being oppressively hot. Kenny remembered the sweltering heat in the jungle and decided this felt very similar. Beads of sweat were already forming on his brow, and they had not even started. He bent down and tried to touch his toes, mimicking what he saw Zach doing.

"Do you have any clue what you're doing?" asked Andrew, standing up straight.

Zach shook his head, smiling. "No clue. I'm doing whatever Matt told me to do back when we ran together."

Andrew arched by eyebrows. "You ran?"

"I hated it but yeah. Ready?"

Kenny nodded. Zach set the pace down the path stretching to the east of the lodge. It curved around the slight uphill before descending into the heart of the forest before circling back to the lodge from the west. They started slow, but once they entered the forest Zach picked up speed. He easily kept the lead. Kenny did not feel too bad sucking in his breaths when Andrew started following suit. They reached the halfway point about thirty minutes after they left when Andrew called for a break.

Zach jogged back to them. "Five minutes?"

Andrew sat on a log and put his head between his legs. "Fuck, Zach, we're just trying to not die. No one said we're training for the fucking marathon."

Kenny rested his hands on his hand, feeling the dampness from his sweat in his hair. He took deep breaths, forcing himself to breathe in through the nose and out his mouth. "I vote for walking back."

Zach frowned at them but nodded. "Sorry, guys, I…"

Andrew sat up. "Didn't realize you're superman already?"

"You spent a year training with—well, you know," finished Kenny lamely.

"You can say her name," whispered Zach, losing the smile. "But I get your point. Did you really not train at all while I was captured?"

Andrew shook his head. "I think they still thought they'd be able to shelter us."

Zach crossed his arms. "I—humpf…"

"It's not like we did nothing. It just wasn't very intense," reasoned Kenny.

Zach licked his lips. "So do you guys not want to…"

"NO!" Andrew stood up. "No, we've got to do this. We can't be sitting ducks."

Kenny nodded in agreement. "We need to train. We can't—we can't rely on luck. You're just going to have to work with us. Yeah?"

"Compromise, then. We jog back?"

Andrew rolled his head from side to side. "I'm setting the pace. You two will leave me in the dust." He smirked and started jogging down the path.

Kenny hesitated, and Zach stayed still. "Something up?"

Kenny chewed on the inside of his cheek. It was now or never. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the ring given to him by Montu. Holding his breath, he handed the ring over to Zach. It felt like it took longer than normal to fall out of his palm into Zach's. The moment the metal left his skin he immediately wanted it back in his possession, but he kept himself from snatching it back.

"Nice ring. Who gave it to you?" asked Zach, holding it up.

"GUYS?"

Zach faced Andrew. "We're giving you a head start. Go on. We'll catch up."

"I hate you!" yelled Andrew, but he did not return.

Kenny gulped. "It—Montu gave it to me. He said—um—uh—he said, well, he said it was my mother's—my birth mother's."

Zach held the ring out, and Kenny hastily grabbed it.

"Um, sorry."

"That symbol…I've seen it before," said Zach slowly.

Kenny nodded. "I thought you might have. Montu said it's a ring he took off one of Lucifer's captives."

"Rahab," whispered Zach, eyes widening.

"Did you see her?"

Zach frowned. "Why?"

Kenny shook his head. "Never, never mind. Let's get going."

Zach studied him for a moment longer. "We'll talk later."

Kenny nodded, unsure of how he felt about any future talks. He started to jog but let Zach overtake him.

By the time they reached the lodge some of the others were up. Kenny and Andrew trudged up the stairs to shower. Zach hung back to run through a few more exercises. His father and mother joined him. None of them spoke. After a couple of round of crunches and pushups, Wyatt and Sarah went for a run, and Zach went in search of an open shower. After showering, he dried himself off and wrapped his towel around his waist. After a quick peak out of the bathroom, he dashed down the hall and into his bedroom. Normally, he brought his clothes into the bathroom.

The plan for the day was the help his maternal uncle rebuild the fence near the main gate. His mother had volunteered his services while he had been out of the room. He selected a baggy old band t-shirt and a pair of very worn blue jeans from his cupboard. He laid the pieces of clothing on his unmade bed and collected underwear and socks from the dresser. He was busy pulling on his jeans when someone knocked on the door.

Without waiting for a response, Rebecca stepped into his bedroom. Zach jerked his jeans the rest of the way up and zipped them up as hurriedly as possible without causing any undue discomfort.

"Oh, um, hi," he said clumsily. They had not really spoken to each other since the day of the battle, the day after her boyfriend was killed.

Rebecca smiled, the dimples in her cheeks making her look younger and worry free. The façade did not reach her haunting eyes. She did not blush. Instead, she folded her arms and leaned one shoulder on the doorframe, her dark eyes taking in the sight before her with evident pleasure. "Morning."

Zach ceased fumbling behind himself for his t-shirt and returned her look for a moment, "Aren't you supposed to be embarrassed, apologize, and quickly leave?"

Her smile widened lazily, and she shrugged a shoulder. "I probably would have a year or two ago, maybe. Today, today, I don't feel like running away." She tilted her head and moved toward Zach. She reached out and rested her fingertips very lightly against one of the newer scars in the center of his right shoulder. She traced the outline and glanced up at Zach with questioning eyes.

"Bullet wound," whispered Zach, eye fluttering shut. "Wasn't, uh, focused enough."

She nodded and moved her fingers to the hollow of his throat and slid slowly down over his bare chest and belly in an enticingly straight line. A shuddering sensation of heat pulsated through Zach's skin in the wake of her fingertips. She looked up at him again. She stopped over another scar; this one more faded.

Zach breathed heavily, forcing himself to open his eyes. "A poisoned dagger. Set's specialty."

Her touch trailed down his bare arms, lingering on his forearms, near his wrists, avoiding the red, scolded skin from the accident mixing a vanquishing potion. He had added too much monkshood. He had refused to have it healed in order to practice healing himself to little success.

"Lucifer's shackles from his torture chair. Matt must have told you about it…" he trailed off, keeping his eyes on her face.

Rebecca sighed. She lifted his left hand, interlocking fingers. Her other hand dropped to his waist and brushed over the worst of his scars, a horrible melted mess of tissue just above his left hip.

"A stray fire ball from Apep. He came up with a spell that makes healing wounds he inflicts almost impossible. That was the best Lucifer's best healers could accomplish."

Rebecca sucked in her lower lip, meeting his eyes. "You've got more scars than the rest of your family put together."

"You've seen the rest of my family shirtless?" he joked in an attempt to diffuse the tension. His voice hitched in his throat, however, betraying him.

"No," she said with a hint of a smile, "Matt a few times, but he's got nothing to be ashamed of."

She flashed a grin again. At close range it was overwhelming, and her eyes looked even darker and hungrier.

"Rebecca," Zach said quietly, "you've moved on. You're with Nate."

Rebecca inched closer, still drawing circles on his bare skin. "Zach, Nate's dead," she said matter-of-factly.

Zach nodded. "I know, but..."

Her eyes smoldered with emotions and desire. "He wanted me to be happy. He kept reminding me that all he wanted was for me to be happy, no matter what."

Zach raised his free right hand to gently cup the line of her jaw and leaned down to press his lips to hers.

She let out a quiet, satisfied little moan and melted against him, her body pressing full-length to his, returning the kiss with slow sensuous passion. He felt her slide the fingers of one hand into his slightly damp hair. The nails of the other hand wandered randomly over his chest and arms, barely touching. It left a trail of fire on his flesh, and he found himself sinking the fingers of his right hand into her thick long brown hair, drawing her more deeply into the kiss.

Zach did not know how long the kiss lasted; he was too lost in the moment to care. By the time Rebecca drew her mouth away from his, both were breathing harder, and his heart was pounding out a rapid beat against his chest. He wished he had chosen a looser pair of jeans.

She did not open her eyes for a few seconds. When she did, they were huge and molten, burning through him with unspoken yearning. Rebecca leaned back and arched in a slow stretch, letting out a low pleased sigh.

"Rebecca..." started Zach, trying to regain some sense of self-control.

Rebecca hushed him with a single slender finger to his lips. She dragged it across them; her breasts heaving against him. "I don't need a gentleman and chivalry, today. I've mourned Nate but ever since you returned things weren't the same with him. We both knew it. If he were still alive I wouldn't be here. He was good to me. He kept me sane when I thought you were gone, but he was never the one I truly loved."

Zach blinked slowly, trying the slow his breathing. "It's too soon—for both of us."

"I've seen the way you look at me, Zach. This isn't me looking for a fling or hiding from my emotions, and it's not a betrayal to what I had with Nate. I didn't know Eve, but I doubt she'd see it as a betrayal either. That kiss—it tells me you want this just as much as I do."

She took a minuscule step back. Zach hated the loss of her touch.

"Eve—Eve wasn't just a fling for me, Becks," he said softly.

Rebecca bit her lower lip. "I never said it was," she whispered.

Zach sucked in a shuddering breath, willing his body to settle down. He needed a clear mind. "I can't—I won't just…I want to. You're right, absolutely right. That kiss was amazing…"

"So let go, Zach. Stop being noble and self-sacrificing for once in your life." Rebecca blinked slowly. "We need this. You need this."

Zach noticed she was not wearing a bra beneath the tight top. He looked away, but his unconscious mind dragged his gaze back to Rebecca. His lips tingled from the memory of the kiss. He shivered at the lack of contact between them. Something primal deep inside him screamed at him to act. He held himself back. He loved Eve. He loved the baby they were going to have together. He loved Rebecca.

He stepped forward, grabbing hold of her. He did not let her make a sound. Locked in a passionate kiss, they fell onto his bed. Clothing fell away with the rest of the world. He was very late heading over to help his uncle.

* * *

"Are you insane!" whispered Sophia, loudly enough some of the kids looked back at them.

Some sort of emissary from the mortal population had arrived at the house that morning. The arrival led to everyone too young to vote being unceremoniously kicked out of the house. A hasty picnic was packed and orbed to them around lunchtime with a note explaining the meeting could take the whole day. After getting the picnic sorted out, Rebecca asked Sophia to join her underneath a large oak tree.

"Shh," warned Rebecca, looking to see if the boys had heard anything. They were busy playing a game of tag with some of the kids who had already finished their sandwiches.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "You slept with him? What the hell, Becca!"

Rebecca sighed and covered her face. "I know. I know! Soph, I know, ok. Please…"

"Oh no! I get to yell at you for this. He's still grieving for Eve. And his kid! Did you forget about that little fact? I can't believe you!"

Beth joined them. "What'd I miss?"

Sophia glanced at Rebecca, giving her a reproachful and expectant glare. Rebecca groaned and rolled her eyes. "I slept with Zach."

Beth's eyes bulged out of her head. "You're fucking kidding me."

Sophia shook her head. "Have you heard of a more foolish thing?"

"Well…" Beth met Rebecca's eyes. "Was he into it?"

Rebecca blushed. "Um—yeah, I think."

Sophia huffed.

Beth ignored her. "Have you two talked after it happened?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No. He was busy yesterday helping his uncle, and then…" She gestured to the picnic and small army of children around them.

"You've got to talk to him. See what he thinks of everything. That is…you do want to get back together with him, right?"

Sophia gave her an appraising look. Rebecca gulped. "Yeah—um, at least—I still love him." She looked over where Zach was rolling in the grass, tickling one of his younger cousins. She smiled wistfully.

Beth smirked. "There's not a whole lot not to like about him. Good with kids. Easy on the eyes. A perfect gentleman...expect where it cuts, right?"

Rebecca blushed and spied Richard giving Patience a piggyback ride. "I don't think you did too badly for yourself."

Sophia pursed her lips. "That's it. Seriously?"

"Look, Soph, it's between her and Zach. Yes, it complicated and messy, but what good relationship isn't? Our job is to be there whether it turns out good or not."

"Fine, I just don't want to see him, or you, hurt. You're still mourning Nate. I know you are."

Rebecca nodded and twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she thought. "He was my best friend. We were in Mommy and Me classes together. That—doesn't mean, uh, um…"

"You don't love Zach, want to be with him," finished Beth. "Come on, let's stop chatting. We're letting the boys have all the fun."

Sophia sighed.

"Do you hate me?" asked Rebecca timidly after Beth moved out of range.

Shaking her head, Sophia gave Rebecca a one-armed hug. "No. I do think you and Zach make a cute couple, always did. I just want you to be careful. You've both been through a lot lately."

Rebecca returned the hug. "Thanks, Mom."

"I wear that title with pride," said Sophia, puffing out her chest.

* * *

George Gluksburg sat down on a rocking chair just outside the kitchen window. Senator Clayton, a bullish man from Maine, left only minutes previous along with his small entourage of generals and admirals. It seemed the United States military machine did not take kindly to being bossed around by Lucifer. They may have gained a very powerful ally as long as he was not caught. George sipped on his cup of espresso, wishing it were Greek coffee like his grandmother made back in his home country.

Anakin joined him, holding a steaming mug of tea. "What did you think?"

"Sir?" he asked in the formal tone Penelope hated so much.

"Anakin. We are family," said the blond man with perfect contentment.

George put his cup down on the ground at his feet. He looked the man across from him directly in the eyes. "He is a politician."

Anakin cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow. "A bad thing?"

"Politicians tend to only act out of self-interest in my experience."

Anakin smirked. "Your father was prime minister, was he not?"

George nodded. "So, I would know."

Anakin bowed his head, conceding the point. "You and Kyle are our guides in this matter. I'll confess my interest in such things never had a chance to manifest itself."

"Kyle knew Mr. Clayton," said George, stating it as a matter of fact.

Anakin shrugged. "I have no doubt his family knows the Claytons. They are from the same area of the country and both influential families. Beyond that, I cannot say."

George rubbed his hands together. The air had a chill in it tonight. Fall was fast approaching. "You want us to take point on this?"

"I want to make the most of the skills and resources before us. Our normal routes of communication with the outside world have grown thin. My brother's conviction in absentia had the desired effect. Lucifer cut us off from former allies. We need to make new ones."

Breathing in slowly George looked past Anakin toward the ground bathed in a golden haze. "I'll talk to Penelope."

Anakin bobbed his head. "I couldn't ask anything more of you. Thank you," he said genuinely

"I can see why they treat you with such caution. You are not…" George caught himself and let the statement trail off into silence.

"You can say it. I've heard it often enough when they whisper amongst themselves. I have a coldness about me, a detachment from emotions. It is not true. I feel as deeply as anyone. I just can't afford to let my attachment to family and friends influence my decisions."

George lowered his gaze, unable to meet Anakin's eyes. "I apologize."

Anakin chuckled. "Don't be stupid. It is a true enough observation. I do not hold it against them or you. Perhaps, when this is all over we can be a really family again. For the time being, I am resigned to being whispered about." He said with a small knowing smile.

George coughed in an attempt to shake the awkwardness. Anakin took a sip of his tea, plainly comfortable with silence.

"What is the plan?" asked George after a minute of quiet.

Anakin leaned forward. "An alliance with the military and the government is useless without the support of the people. We need to show we are not something to be feared."

"How?"

"We liberate the oppressed. The time for hiding behind these wards is at an end. We take the fight to Lucifer—or at least some of us do. Like I said, I want to make use of all of the talents this family has to offer. There is more to the story of the Powers than we have discovered. We need to research the origins of magic and perhaps of this world. It is time we discover everything there is to know about Lucifer and the Powers, including how to killing them," said Anakin conspiratorially.

* * *

AN: What did you all think? I love hearing from all of you.

Until next time!


	14. Vox Populi

AN: Enjoy!

VOX POPULI

Andrew's eyes snapped open the moment the first glimmers of light bespeckled his bedroom's floor. Ritualistically he rolled over onto his side. The other half of his bed was still perfectly made. He lamented silently with a heavy sigh. Under normal circumstances waking up alone for a teenaged boy or girl would be mundane, but for the past year and a half, he had not been living under normal conditions. The perpetual and persistent threat of being attacked, living under a single roof with over thirty other people, and being stranded at least half a continent from his home were a few examples of the new normal he had grown accustomed to. The most significant change in his quotidian living environment was sharing a bed with his boyfriend.

Everything changed again after the near tragedy in town months previous. He felt Danny starting to pull away, but he chose to ignore it. People dealt with stress differently. Danny had already proven he struggled with the continuous danger being allied with the Halliwells placed them under. Andrew felt after a period of time Danny would open up to him. Only the discussion never happened. Then the attack on the compound made the situation a hundred times worse.

The last attack, being put on lockdown, was the final straw for Danny. He cut himself off from all of their friends. He was rarely at any of the meals. He put in fewer appearances than even Zach. While the others trained or helped research obscure texts on myths and legends, Danny locked himself in his previously never used room. Andrew had tried talking to him, but the taller and more muscular boy shoved him aside. Jamal told him to give Danny some time to cool down.

The problem with giving him time was it meant Andrew was left alone. He had friends, but they were busy. Every one of his friends had something to contribute to the effort to bring down Lucifer save him. He was not a grand scholar like Sophia. Try as he might he could not bring himself to enjoy exercising at the crack of dawn. He went on the runs to be with Zach, to not feel so alone, but he always felt like he was holding his friend back, something they could not afford. He wanted his boyfriend back.

He dragged himself out of bed and opened the heavy drapes. People bustled around beneath his bedroom window. They were setting up some sort of new warding system. He heard Pyrrha and Anakin discussing it during the previous night's dinner between bouts of brooding. Even if he had paid attention, he doubted he would have understood much. He did come to the realization that the new wards would mean an end to the angelic guardians patrolling the passages at night; something he would not miss. He had the misfortune to run into one, and it was a memory he did not care to revisit ever. Needless to say, pure terror barely began to cover the horror he felt at the moment. Angels were clearly not meant to be viewed by mortal eyes.

A part of him wanted to stay hunkered down in the stuffy room for the rest of the day. He would not have to deal with the silent questioning looks the girls gave him. The concern in Zach's eyes might just kill him. He knew his best friend had better things to be than worried about than him. Remaining in bed also had the advantage of not running the risk of bumping into Danny and having the awkward conversation they both were avoiding.

Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his slightly greasy hair. He could not hide away from the world. He refused to become a prisoner to his own thoughts; everything that happened with his family made him stronger than that. Today would be the day he confronted Danny. They would have a heart to heart; enough was enough.

Energized by the thought, he hurriedly collected an outfit for the day and rushed to the bathroom. Thankfully, the boy's bathroom was unoccupied. He needed to find the tall blond before he lost his nerve. For all his hubris, he was inherently a person who avoided conflict if at all possible. It was one of the reasons he had hidden his true self from the world for so long.

Kenny stood at the door when he exited, feeling refreshed and more awake from the shower. He smiled, unsure it reached his eyes. "Hey!"

Kenny returned the smile but concern perverted it into a grimace. "Missed you this morning. Zach used it as an excuse to run me ragged. I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow."

Andrew smirked and stepped aside. "Sorry I missed that."

"All done?" asked Kenny.

Andrew gestured for the younger boy to enter. "It's all yours."

He deposited his dirty clothes in his room, chucking them onto his unmade bed. Snapping the door shut behind him, he took a deep steadying breath and descended the stairs into the hustle and bustle of another day among the Halliwell clan. He discovered David slurping the remnants of a bowl of cereal at the breakfast nook and joined him. The young boy wiped aside a drop of milk just as his mother entered giving him and Andrew a look.

"Your father is looking for you, David," said Layla in a tone used by all parents when they know their child had just done something they would not approve. She trained her brown eyes on Andrew who shrugged, the universal sign of ignorance. "Morning," she said by way of greetings.

Andrew forced a genuine smile. "Morning, Ms. Yousefi."

"It's Layla, sweetheart. Most of the teens are down by the old oak tree."

"Thanks, ma'a—err—Layla. Is Danny with them?"

Layla ushered David out the porch door with a stern look. "Um—I think so."

"Thanks!" Andrew grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island and departed.

He did not head directly to the oak tree but made a detour to the living room. Wyatt was sitting on the couch and in deep conversation with Piper. The Halliwell matriarch still did not look fully recovered from her encounter with the Ennead. The oldest of the Charmed children also looked years older than before the attack. Andrew cleared his throat, and the adults halted their conversation.

"Andrew!" greeted Wyatt warmly. "Zach and the rest are out back."

"I heard. Um—I was actually—uh—hoping I could talk to you for a sec."

Wyatt glanced back at his mother.

Piper struggled to her feet with a soft groan. "I need to see to preparing lunches if you guys are heading out into the woods later."

Wyatt's eyes narrowed, but he bowed his head. "Thanks, Mom. What's up, Andrew?"

Andrew twiddled his thumbs, struggling to meet Wyatt's gaze. His mouth sudden felt like it was fill of cotton. The frog in his throat further inhibited his ability to speak. His eyes felt like there were thousands of tiny needles in them, and he blinked. Horror filled him as he felt the dampness of tears trail down his cheeks. He involuntarily gasped for air and gulped, feeling completely out of control.

His body continued to shake as Wyatt wrapped him in a warm fatherly embrace, the type of hug he could not remember ever receiving before. He buried his face against the older man's muscular chest and sobbed. They stayed in the same position for minutes on end until his tears dried. He sniffed and pulled away gently. He felt Wyatt hesitate before letting him step back. The young teen sniffed and smeared the remnants of his breakdown with his forearm. Wyatt offered him a facecloth. He hiccoughed and accepted the piece of dark gray fabric graciously.

"Sorry," he murmured, cleaning his face to avoid meeting the adult's searching eyes.

Wyatt remained close but did not approach him, giving him the space he needed. "What are you sorry for?"

Andrew bunched the cloth firmly in his right fist and looked up with bloodshot eyes. "Your shirt for one."

Wyatt glanced down at the damp patch and half smiled. "This old thing?"

Andrew laughed halfheartedly. "I—th—that wasn't the—uh—plan."

Wyatt tilted his head to one side as a show of concern. "It wasn't?"

Sniffling again, Andrew stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I—I—um—err…"

"Take your time, kiddo," said Wyatt compassionately. He took a seat giving Andrew an excuse to do the same. When Andrew did not continue, Wyatt folded his hands in his lap. "Do you mind if I take a jab at what's brought this on?"

Andrew shook his head.

Taking a deep breath, Wyatt relaxed back into the couch. "I won't lie and pretend I haven't noticed you and Danny seem to be on the outs. He's been closed off from all of us, but he's been exceptionally careful to dodge you in specifically."

Andrew swallowed and croaked, "Yeah."

Head bobbing, Wyatt continued. "The past year has been—well, it's not been easy on anyone. William's death hit Danny hard."

"I—I wanted..." started Andrew but his voice failed him.

Wyatt smiled softly. "I'm not blaming you. I'm not blaming anyone. This is just what I've observed, ok? Danny's always expressed a reservation about magic. His beliefs have only been confirmed by the death of his best friend and father, not to mention your own close call a few months ago. Fear is a very insidious emotion. It can twist everything around, turn even the best in a person against them. Danny is someone who loves deeply, and consequently, he feels loss just as profoundly. My guess, and it is only a guess, he's withdrawn from everyone in an attempt to protect himself."

Andrew chewed on his lip. "How…"

"You can remind him—show him the pain is worth it. There is more to his life than the darkness he's focusing on."

Andrew blinked away more tears and stared out the window. "He doesn't give me the chance."

Wyatt shrugged. "Actually—there's something I can do to help in that regard. This property is very large, but being cooped up here with parents and adults must be wearing on you and your friends. Matthew asked my brother if he and a few of the others could spend the day in town."

Andrew's eyes widened. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Extremely," said Wyatt gravely. "Our first thought was, of course, to say no, but the more it's lingered the less inclined I am to deny the request outright. We're expecting a lot out of you—I think there may be a way to minimize the risk. What do you think?"

"Um—the last time I was there I nearly died, but—but it might be nice to have a day as almost normal teens."

Wyatt clapped him on the shoulder. "Good, give me a day. This is going to take some planning."

Andrew stood up; his legs still felt a bit weak. "Uh—Mr. Halliwell—Wyatt…Thanks."

Wyatt grinned. "Anytime, kiddo. Anytime."

* * *

Henry Jr. stood amongst the ruins of a football stadium across the river from downtown Nashville. The scars of a major battle marred the otherwise picturesque skyline amongst the vibrant green of Middle Tennessee. Most of the damage was from the decisive victory the witch hunters won almost two years previous, effectively wiping out renegade witches from the southern United States. The leader of the local coven had been a man with a short temper fuse and even less sense; some would call him deranged. Rather than surrender the city, he had set off a series of bombs destroying major landmarks and killing hundreds of innocents, injuring thousands more. He had managed to vanquish a couple dozen highly ranked demons in the process was his excuse before being executed before the newly formed witch hunter tribunal.

Considering the recent history the mortal population of the area had with magic, the battle-weary man could not understand the reasoning for starting their efforts to win back the public's support here. He shook his head and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand leaving a smear of gray ash in its wake. He turned aside from the view of the river separating him from the true heart of the city and faced his cousin and a heavily built middle-aged man in army fatigues.

The discussion wounded down soon after, and the man trotted off in the direction of the collection of army vehicles and the rest of his men. Henry Jr watched with concern as his cousin sighed and shut his sunken eyes. The strain of the day was evident in his pained expression.

"I hate bureaucracy," stated Anakin, massaging his thigh as Henry Jr. approached.

Henry Jr. could not think of a clever response and shrugged. "Is the leg still bothering you?"

Anakin swiveled his head in the negative. "It's habit, now. No, it seems my body finally figured out how to repair itself."

"Creep," muttered a passing military personnel.

Smirking, Anakin started walking in the opposite direction of the army troops. "Our contact in the resistance said their headquarters is not too far from here. Some place that used to be a university before everything went to hell."

"Is that where we're heading?"

"No. No, we're going to meet with your sister."

Henry Jr. frowned. "What?"

Anakin smiled knowingly and took his head. One moment they were standing next to a mortar shell blast hole, and the next they were somewhere on the other side of the world, judging by the lack of a sun in the sky. Henry Jr. twisted around and spotted a very familiar domed building. A man dressed in something akin to a clown's costume of blue, yellow, and red stripes hurried across the courtyard toward them, carrying a spear in one hand and a black cap clutched in the other.

"The Vatican!" hissed Henry Jr.

Anakin rolled his eyes and greeted the man with a warm smile. "We're expected."

The guard struggled to catch his breath. "Sorry, sir. Things…"

Anakin dismissed the guard's concern. "It is no matter. Has our friend already arrived?"

"I believe so," he said in a thick Italian accent. "The monsignor is waiting in his chambers. This way, gentlemen."

"Our friend pulled out all the stops," whispered Anakin conspiratorially.

Henry Jr.'s head was still spinning. "Um—what?" You mean Ur…"

Anakin interrupted him. "Let's keep it as 'our friend' for now."

"Right, so he set this up?"

Anakin nodded as they were led into a dimly lit corridor. "We're looking for knowledge about a being that features heavily in the Church's doctrine. It is only logical they would have an extensive collection concerning said being."

They took a right. The floor changed from polished stone to marble. The lights flickered and grew brighter.

"You think…"

Anakin held up his hand. "Let's wait until we're away from prying ears."

The guard stopped in front of a massive door and rapped on it twice with an equally large brass doorknocker. A voice inside bade them enter. The guard pushed the door open slightly and stepped aside. Anakin gestured for Henry Jr. to enter first. He did and turned just in time to see Anakin spell the guard. The man went cross-eyed for a moment before stumbling down the passage clearly drunk.

"Was that necessary?" asked Henry Jr. He still felt uneasy using magic on mortals.

Anakin shrugged. "It's best to be cautious. We can't afford to have word of this reach unwanted ears."

A man standing by the fireplace holding a glass of red wine coughed. "Gentlemen," said a man with a warm voice.

Henry Jr.'s eyes widened. "No. It can't be! Father Rowe!"

Prefect Brendan Rowe, the former half-warlock saved by the original Charmed Ones, smiled broadly before putting on a stern expression. "That is Monsignor Rowe to you, young man."

Henry Jr. laughed and walked over to the old priest and gave him a hug. "When did you give up the missionary gigs in Africa?"

Anakin took a seat beside Pyrrha with a small smirk playing around his mouth. He noticed the pile of worn tomes and fragile looking scrolls. There were even a few stone tablets sat next to a very modern computer tablet. "You've been busy."

Brendan returned to standing in front of the lit fireplace. "It's not everyday one is visited by a genuine archangel."

"Before we start—Pyrrha, do you have the spell?"

Pyrrha rolled her large eyes and produced a slip of paper. "It requires the Power of Three, though."

Anakin arched an eyebrow and took the paper and read it over. "Not for me."

The paper vanished in a flash of flames. Power flowed off Anakin disrupting loose objects throughout the office. Every port of entry or exit, no matter how small, glowed a faded orange. Anakin's ears popped, and smoke began building around the fire. He snapped his fingers. The fire sputtered out. All shadows in the room vanished.

"Sorry, Monsignor, but we cannot afford to be lax. I'll restart the flames once we've concluded our business."

Brendan stared at Anakin. "Mon Dieu! You're…"

"Not quite," said Anakin dismissively. "What I am is of little consequence to our agenda tonight. The less time I spend here; the less attention Lucifer will spend examining the area."

Pyrrha pulled a stone tablet closer to her. "I'm good with ancient languages, Annie, but these are beyond me. Penny's the real linguist; she's got that whole omnilingualism power down pat. Anything older than ancient Etruscan—it gives me a headache even looking at the script."

Brendan took up the computer and typed in a few lines of text. "This will give you access to all the libraries contents, assuming it has been digitized. It's been stored on the computer instead of sitting in the cloud. Did I say that right?"

Henry Jr. graciously accepted the computer. "All the Vatican archives are on this?"

"That is what my IT guy said. He was very concerned why I would need something like it. Something about it being highly unprecedented." Brendan shrugged.

Anakin studied one of the scrolls, paused, and looked up. "This is perfect. Thank you, Brendan."

Brendan bowed his head. "I owe your mother and her sisters a lot."

"Are you certain this is all worth it?" asked Pyrrha.

Anakin nodded, returning to reading the scroll. "Knowledge is power. Lucifer knows everything there is to know about our family. He's had millennia to study us. We need to level the playing field a bit. Somewhere in all this may be the tiny piece of information that leads to his downfall."

Pyrrha closed her eyes, exhausted. "But not tonight. I've been at this for too long. I'm heading back."

Anakin replaced the scroll on the table and rubbed his thigh. "I've got a few more things to do. Can you guys orb back?"

"We're not newbies, Annie," mocked Henry Jr. He shook Brendan's hand. "Thank you for the help."

Anakin lowered the wards and watched his cousins depart in a swirl of orbs. He eyed the remaining evidence of their search. "You're positive you can hide this."

Brendan rubbed his hands together. Anakin restarted the fire. "I still know how they think."

"I'm just an orb away if they come after you," said Anakin and vanished. Shadows popped back into their natural positions.

* * *

He returned to the Compound in the early hours of the morning. A fine layer of red and yellow dust covered his clothes. His cheeks sported impressive red marks, telltale signs of excess time spent unprotected under the sun. His back ached from hours of being hunched over. Grit irritated his eyes. He longed for a shower and his soft comfortable bed. The light in the kitchen informed him his desires would go unfulfilled for some time yet. He wished for a moment the new wards could be altered to let him orb directly into his room.

He trudged up the steps of the house's porch. His feet shuffled under the uneven ground. He reached the door and steeled himself for whoever waited inside. Opening the door slowly, he groaned. It was an ambush. His three siblings and their respective spouses were waiting for him.

He slipped inside. "Evening."

All eyes in the room settled on him.

"I've seen deserts with less dust," said Chris.

Anakin shivered and the dust evaporated. "Better? I wasn't exactly planning on entertaining at this hour."

Chris gave him an unimpressed look. "You're talking to a group of people that's had to look after newborns. You haven't even begun to feel the level of sleep deprivation you get from being a parent."

Serena touched him on the forearm. "Hun," she murmured gently.

Anakin folded his arms. "I take it we're going to have 'the talk'...again."

Wyatt with an arm snaked around Sarah's waist stepped slightly forward. "It's time, don't you think?"

Anakin looked around the group of his friends and family. There was a look of resigned stubbornness on each of their faces. He sighed and bobbed his head once in defeat. "I suppose. Where do you want to start?"

Kyle scratched his neck and shuffled his feet. "Can we move somewhere we can sit?"

"That works for me," said Anakin, giving his siblings each a meaningful look.

They resituated themselves in the main living room. Anakin sat in a chair in front of the empty fireplace, placing himself at the center of the semi-circle. Wyatt and Sarah sat to his left. Chris and Serena took the chair to his right. Prue snuggled up to Kyle in the magically enlarged loveseat. He could see each of their attempts to make the whole situation feel anything other than what it was: an interrogation.

"I can start from the beginning," stated Anakin after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Chris shook his head. "We don't want the runaround, Anakin. The time for keeping us in the dark has passed. We want the truth, the whole truth."

Anakin crossed his arms and frowned. He leaned forward and stared down Chris. His eyes subtly shifted from their baby blue to the dazzling sky blue and emerald. Chris blinked and looked away.

"Maybe not the whole truth then," said Anakin evenly.

Serena moaned. "Annie," she pleaded weakly.

Anakin forced himself to physically relax. "Right, sorry. Look, it's never been my intention to keep you guys in the dark. There's just—some things are too sensitive to be discussed. Others are—well—knowledge is a powerful thing. In some cases it is so powerful it strips away free will. Removal of a human's free will is a big thing, not even Lucifer messes with it."

"So you're a Power?" asked Prue in a tiny voice.

He kept still for a moment, pondering the question. Slowly, he shook his head. "No, I'm not a Power. I—uh—my rebirth was necessitated by Lucifer's return to this plain. After the events with Aeglaeca, The Balance was left in a state of limbo or could have been. Uriel—he made—he saved me, protected my being, soul or whatever, by infusing my magical essence with some of his own. In doing so he created the opening Lucifer needed to return."

A few people gasped.

"You—if he hadn't acted…"

Anakin shrugged. "I don't know. The ritual Rahab and Tiamat used was not the one Uriel thought they'd use. It is possible they could've resurrected him regardless."

"Ok, struggling a bit," said Kyle, rubbing his temples. "All this is very esoteric. Boil it down for us laypeople."

The color of the world inverted for a split second, and Uriel stood amongst them for a second. Bright lights flashed. Metal twisted and crashed, breaking. Uriel burst apart.

"What the hell was that!" yelled Wyatt.

Someone knocked on the front door. Anakin stood up. "Looks like our wards work." He left and returned with Uriel.

Uriel was dressed in all black. "I see Pyrrha's research into Enochian runes has paid off." He took Anakin's seat. Anakin stood behind him and to his right. The Angel of Death took a moment to eye each person seated in the circle. "Anakin, how did your investigations go today?"

Anakin gulped. He had not told anyone about what he had been doing. "They're progressing," he said evasively.

Uriel took a deep breath. "Tea, anyone?"

"Why are you here?" asked Wyatt through gritted teeth.

Uriel smiled, conjured a cup of steaming tea, and took a sip. "Always the impetuous one, Twice Blessed. An artifact no doubt from the false belief you have no equal. I assure you, young man, I am beyond your abilities and deserve the modicum of respect availed your betters."

Wyatt cracked his knuckles. Anakin coughed, his eyes hardened. "Uriel, you are a guest."

Uriel looked up at him. "Perhaps, I shall lead by example. I am here, Wyatt Halliwell, to ensure your brother is reminded of all that is at stake. Forget the concerns with free will. My brother, how it pains me to include him as part of my family, is highly skilled in the art of eavesdropping. Even the best wards stand little chance of inhibiting him completely. He is after all the being who taught the Master of Shadows everything he knows."

Anakin's eyes sunk down to the floor covered in shadows. "It's not like I know much."

"Every bit is an advantage. Were you not early today espousing on the power of knowledge?" Uriel stood up and handed his empty cup to Anakin. "The time has not yet come, Anakin."

Anakin closed his eyes and nodded.

"So you can learn!"

Wyatt stood up. "Listen here, bub!" He pocked Uriel in his chest.

Uriel looked down at the offending digit. His form shifted for a brief moment. The humanity in the being washed away. A creature with metallic eyes and glowing skin stood in his place wreathed in nine pure silver and fiery wings. The moment passed, and the old man stood before them again. "Yes?"

Wyatt gulped. "Um—uh…"

'That is what I thought." He turned aside. "Anakin, the angelic host remains at your call. Remember their strengths and inabilities." He took a step forward and blurred away.

"Fuck," whispered Prue.

"Yeah…" echoed a few others.

Anakin took a few deep breaths, steadying his thoughts. He took his seat, still holding the empty cup. "What else do you what to know?"

They all remained quiet for a dozen more minutes, unmoving. Then Sarah slowly sat forward. "I—uh—what did you know about Zachary?"

Anakin smiled grimly. "He was—is at the center of Lucifer's plan. A being born in pure innocence to the union of two great magical powers. He, like all of us, has the potential to be a force for good or evil. His potential to be pulled to one side or the other is greater than in most. Think of it as a similar dilemma as Phoebe or Wyatt faced. They were born under the influence of the nexus, a place inherently easily turned."

"Lucifer succeeded. He turned Zach," whispered Sarah. "He's a naagolishii."

At this, Anakin honestly shrugged. "All I've heard about naagolishii leads me to understand them as beings of power driven by great intellect and predatory instinct. That does not describe Zach. No naagolishii acts with empathy. I don't they understand how to."

"So he's not one of those?" interrupted Kyle.

"I can't say. His aura is marred by a darkness that was not there before he first transformed. What I think—no, believe is Zachary is still Zachary." Anakin met Sarah's worried eyes. "I have no doubt Lucifer's initial plans from him failed utterly. He is still possibly the being mentioned in the prophecy driving Lucifer."

"Prophecy! What prophecy?" inquired Chris.

"I mentioned it before. There is a prophecy, made by Sarah's grandmother, foretelling the doom of the Grand Design as we know it. Lucifer has interpreted it to mean as a blueprint to separate this plane from his home plane. In doing so, he will be free to rule this world however he sees fit without fear of reprisal. He's wanting to get out from under his father's watchful eyes."

Serena huddled closer to her husband. "And what do you think it means?"

"No idea. I've not heard it."

"Can we—hear it or read it? Is it written down somewhere?"

"That is one of the things I'm looking for."

Prue looked directly at him. "And the others? How do they fit in all this?"

Anakin licked his lips. "They're Zach's balance, all of them. He'll lose himself without them."

They let the magnitude of everything settle around them. Finally, Wyatt cleared his throat. Everyone turned to him.

"We—uh—um—look…if what Annie says is true. If their friendships are that important…we need to let them. Shit, it's not helping them being cooped up in this emotional powder keg. They need to go out. They need a chance to have fun."

Chris jumped in immediately. "We discussed this, Wy. Even Mom thinks it's a bad idea."

Wyatt ignored him and faced Anakin. "The guardians—they can defend a person, not just a place?"

"Yes, but it's dangerous. They're limited to defending only. Lucifer could easily overwhelm them, and they live in a morality with no latitude. A being is either a friend or they are a foe. It's why I limited their guarding of the house to only the hours we were asleep."

"For a few hours—they need to get away from this, from us. I can see it. Their relationships are on the brink of snapping. It's important," entreated Wyatt.

Chris threw his hands up. "They've got acres of woods to go and get drunk. They don't need to be out there, alone and vulnerable."

Wyatt squared his shoulders, but Sarah stopped him from speaking his mind. She eased her way into the center of the two brothers. "There hasn't been any demonic activity in town since the attack. There are no witch hunters. With the added protection of a few invisible angels and clear instructions to orb back the moment anything felt off—it terrifies me to not have Zach under my roof on a good day, never mind with a psychotic archangel hunting him. You need time to affix the more intricate wards, to work them around and in unison with my mother's death curse. You said so yourself, Christopher."

Chris glowered but kept quiet.

"And they will not be alone. I'll patrol the town without them knowing."

Anakin joined Sarah. "I've been told I can be fairly sneaky myself when I try."

The other adults exchanged concerned glances.

"This is going to backfire," huffed Chris

* * *

"We're going to see a movie," announced Rebecca happily, indicating a less thrilled Zach. "Any other takers?"

Matt pulled a face. "Isn't it only that sappy love story playing?"

Rebecca laid her head on Zach's shoulder, staring at the brunette. "Your point?"

Sophia rose to her boyfriend's defense. "It's fine, Becks; we're planning on a shopping spree. I'm all for the survivalist look, but a girl needs a dress or two."

Rebecca pretended to sulk. "Damn! I wanted to go dress shopping also."

Beth holding Richard's hand joined. "Oh, great! That means I can see the movie with you and then go shopping later. What do you think, baby?"

Richard half turned a grimace into a smile. "Sounds great," he replied in a tone that fooled no one.

Sophia eyed Andrew and Danny. "You guys joining us?"

Danny agreed silently. Andrew chewed his cheek but nodded.

"Do you think Kenny really wanted to spend time with David and Alex?" asked Matt.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Come on, sweetie, he's supposed to be your best friend. He didn't want to be surrounded by couples."

"Oh," mouthed Matt quietly and returned to eating the sherbet he was sharing with Sophia.

Zach pushed the last spoonful of vanilla ice cream in front of Rebecca. "I feel bad leaving him behind. We should've dragged him along. He'd have fun."

"I don't know. David and Alex aren't terrible company, and I know from personal experience being the third wheel isn't fun no matter the situation," said Richard slurping the last dredges of his milkshake.

Rebecca stood up and pulled Zach to his feet. "We've got to run. Soph, remember I need uh," she waggled her eyebrows, "if you go to the convenience store."

Sophia nodded. "I remember. We'll see you guys after the movie."

Beth and Richard hurried after Zach and Rebecca. Matt waited for a beat longer before asking, "What was that about?"

"I still don't know why she thinks I'm sneakier than her. Look, she doesn't want anyone to know, especially not Zach, but she's—um—late."

Matt's eyes widened to the size of saucers and clapped a hand over his mouth. Andrew followed suit.

"Doesn't that kid know how to use a condom?" asked Danny snidely. Andrew elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow!"

Sophia shook her head. "It could be nothing. Things have been stressful. She's not been eating, but it's a possibility."

Andrew breathed out heavily. "God, I'm glad I'm gay."

Sternly Sophia eyed each of them as they stood. "Not a word, understand?"

Matt and Andrew mimed zipping their lips shut. Danny collected their trash.

"And why doesn't she want Zach to know?" asked Danny as they started their leisurely stroll down the main street.

"Could be he just lost a kid," quipped Matt, earning himself a jab from Sophia. "What? It's true!"

Sophia glared at him imperiously. "Sensitivity."

Matt rolled his eyes. "They're not here."

"And that baby was a member of your family, Matthew," snapped Sophia.

Matt paled. "Right—never thought about it like that…shit."

Andrew wrapped an arm around Matt's waist. "Don't feel too bad. I'd have been godfather."

"Piss off! No way he'd have chosen you over me!"

Andrew stuck out his tongue and raced off. Matt chased after him.

Sophia yelled after them but gave it up as a lost cause quickly. "So—how are you?"

Danny did not immediately answer. They continued down the block. He came to a stop at the end of the second block. Sophia waited with him, silent.

"Before all this, before knowing about the Halliwells—what did you think about magic?" asked Danny so softly Sophia had to lean in to hear him.

Sophia rocked back on his heels. "Um, you'd think with my background I'd hate magic. Honestly, I didn't give it a second thought. I mean I was barely a year old when everything went down with Aeglaeca. I've never known a world where the public didn't know about magic. Also, it didn't touch me personally, or so I thought. Why?"

Danny shrugged. "Peter was my best friend—my first real friend. My dads, they were—are lovely. I never wanted for anything, but I was a quiet kid. Even in San Francisco, having two dads gets you bullied. Peter stood up for me. He ate lunch with me for a month scaring away anyone who looked at me funny. So—impressionable six-year-old me not wanting to lose the only friend I had went along with what he said. His dad—his dad was an angry man, a drunk. He hated magic—blamed it for everything wrong in his life, and he hated the Halliwells, too."

Sophia nodded along. "Matt told me Peter's dad went to school with his dad. They were rivals on the swim team."

"I've watched the old videos. Chris was amazing in the water. He deserved the captainship. I don't think anyone topped him on our team, except maybe Anakin." Danny trailed off. He jumped slightly and blinked. "Anyways, Pete's dad hated magic, so Pete hated magic and so did I. I mean, after time progressed I started thinking more for myself. I grew into myself, accepted myself, gained more friends. I stopped hating magic, but I didn't trust it. The whole thing with my dads—they never told me about it. I had no idea they were so intimately connected to it."

"I know the feeling. The day my dad told me we're witch hunter…" she trailed off,knowing it was not her time to reminisce.

Danny smiled sadly. "Then magic stole my best friend from me. It killed my dad. Drew came so close…I don't know what I'd done if I lost him." He started to tear up.

Sophia spotted Matt and Andrew approaching. She waved them away. "I'm sorry about your dad, Danny—and Peter."

"I know—I know…all the Halliwells are. Za—Zach even told me he was sorry for Peter. After everything, Peter did to him. He's a good man, a good friend. I know I'm blessed to have all of you as friends, but then I remember the six-year-old me. I wonder, then, what if I kept my distrust of magic as strong as it was back then? How much pain would it have saved me from? My family from?"

Sophia stepped closer. "Oh, sweetie, you can't think like that. Just think, if you hadn't changed. You'd never met Drew. Peter might have been even more of a tyrant. Could your friendship have lasted? Would you have stood by him if it truly had been him that raped Rebecca?"

Danny's eyes snapped onto her own. "Never!"

"I'm not saying you would have," she amended placatingly. "Danny, you are an amazing person with an even better heart. You'd have been miserable as your six-year-old self. Just look at your choices; they show who you really are."

Danny blinked and wiped aside tears. "You guys can come closer," he called.

Andrew approached quickly and enveloped him in a tight hug. They muttered things in each other's ears. Matt pulled Sophia against him and smiled.

"Let's go buy some pregnancy tests!" exclaimed Matt.

Sophia swatted the back of his head. "Seriously, Matt!"

Matt smirked and kissed her on the cheek. They walked into the convenience store attached to the gas station. The proprietor gave them a glare as they entered. Danny and Andrew decided to wait outside. Matt walked right up to the collection of family planning devices. He picked a box with twelve pregnancy sticks and held it up to Sophia. She pushed his arm down to his side and selected a box with two tests. Matt rolled his eyes and grabbed a box of condoms.

"What? Clearly, Zach needs to be better prepared."

He marched up to the counter and laid out the two items on the counter without a hint of embarrassment. The old man behind the counter raised an eyebrow. Matt returned the expression. "I like sex, but you need to be prepared, man."

The man blushed bright red and scanned the items, throwing them hastily into an opaque plastic bag.

Sophia spoke up. "Um, sir, could we have a paper bag."

The man stuffed the plastic bag into a brown bag. "Fucking hippies."

Matt paid the man with a smile. "Always a pleasure. I'll be sure to send all my friends this way. Your collection of condoms is quite extensive. I'm sure your wife is appreciative."

Sophia groaned and pulled Matt forcibly out of the store. "For God's sake."

Matt chuckled. "He deserved it. Looking at us like we're a bunch of hooligans, pfft."

"'I like sex'! What the hell, Matthew. We've not even slept together since you were rescued."

Andrew popped up. "Damn, dude! That's like a lifetime of not doing it."

Matt rounded on Andrew. "Kindly butt out." He turned back to Sophia. "All I said is 'I like sex' I didn't say anything about sex with you." Matt squeaked the moment he finished the sentence.

Sophia's face turned blood red. "WHAT!"

Matt hid behind the paper bag, holding up as a defense. "Not what I meant! Not what I meant. You know that. You're—you're the best. I—uh—um…"

Andrew opened his mouth, but Danny pulled him away.

Sophia crossed her arms. "Explain," she seethed.

Matt lowered the bag incrementally, speeding up the process as his confidence in not being pummeled grew. "Babe—all I was doing is yanking the man's chain. I didn't think about it reflecting poorly on you. You know I love you."

"I love yous won't save you, mister," said Sophia tapping her toe impatiently.

Matt sighed. "I—you know what happened on the island."

Sophia nodded. "Which is why I can't understand why you'd be so flippant about it."

"Right, it's—you know, it's me. I joke and kid when I'm uncomfortable."

Sophia's expression thawed a few degrees. "This isn't over."

Matt gulped. "Sorry?"

Sophia reached for his hand. "Is that a statement?"

Andrew and Danny joined them.

"I think the movie's almost over."

Sophia checked her watch. "We've got at least another hour. Dress shopping?"

"Yippee!" said Matt with more enthusiasm than he felt.

Sophia kissed him briefly. The group walked off ready to while away the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Paige sat down across from her sisters at the solid dining room table. The table had the nicks and bangs furniture collected in a well used and happy home. She had no doubt the table back in her home had similar telltale marks of wear and tear. She smiled sadly to herself, remembering her home may very well no longer be standing. Her new hometown was among the hardest hit during the brief civil war aside for San Francisco.

"Do you guys feel obsolete?" asked Phoebe, pushing aside her laptop.

Piper's brows furrowed ever so slightly. It would have been missed by anyone but her sisters. Paige leaned over the table and patted her older sister's forearm.

"She doesn't mean anything bad by it, honey. Do you Pheebs?"

Phoebe shook her head vigorously. "Of course not. I'm just saying we're sitting here like a bunch of old women while our kids are off preparing for a war."

"Isn't that what we're preparing them for? The last thing we did as Charmed Ones, raise the next generation of Warren witches?"

Phoebe sat further back in her seat and smiled. "We did a damn good job."

Paige nodded in agreement. "Doesn't mean I'm not constantly in a state of panic. We fought one of those things, gave it our all, and barely survived."

"Whatever happened to the demon of the week?" asked Phoebe through a yawn.

Piper's face betrayed her concern. "Still not sleeping?"

Phoebe waved her off. "I'm fine. It's fine. Still psychic residue from the battle. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Lips thinning, Piper started to respond when Wyatt and Sarah walk in from the yard. Both younger adults stopped mid-argument, spotting the three sisters. Sarah gave her husband a meaningful look and walk off. Wyatt gulped and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Evening," he greeted timidly.

All three sisters adopted their "not buying it" expressions.

"Hi, Wyatt," said Piper evenly.

Wyatt cringed. "What are you guys doing up?"

Paige tapped her non-existent watch. "It's only eight-thirty. We're old, Wy, not dead."

"Not what I meant." Wyatt laughed nervously.

Phoebe pushed out the chair next to her. "Take a seat, sweetie."

Wyatt eyed the chair like it was a trap. "I, um, should head up…"

"You can spare a few minutes for your mother." Piper had perfected the no-nonsense tone as her children grew up. They all knew it was futile to argue once she started.

Wyatt huffed and collapsed into the chair.

"What's brought on this mood? All the kids got back safe. From what we heard, they enjoyed themselves."

Wyatt breathed out making his lips flap. "No, no—it's nothing about that. Although, it's nice to have them all back inside the wards. I didn't realize how stressful that was going to be. No, it's—it's something else."

"What else?" asked Piper gently.

Wyatt shook his head. "No—it's something—we need to deal with it."

Piper cocked an eyebrow. "Pumpkin, between the three of us we've got nearly a century of parental wisdom concerning raising magical kids."

Wyatt chuckled softly. "Thanks, Mom, but—this is something…"

Anakin walked in, spotted them, and tried to retreat.

"Stop right there," commanded the eldest Charmed One.

Anakin hung his head. "Hi. I—uh—wasn't expecting you to still be up."

Paige threw her hands up in the air. "How old do we look?"

Phoebe half-smiled. "Later," she said, commiserating.

Piper aimed her accusatory gaze at her youngest child. "Do you know what's going on?"

Anakin shot Wyatt a questioning and pleading glance. Foreseeing no aid from his brother, Anakin tugged on the bottom of his shirt. "Mom, it's…"

Piper held up her hand. "If you say 'nothing,' I will ground you. Don't think I can't bind your powers."

Anakin hid the smirk behind his fist, faking a cough. "Seriously, it's—whatever is going on, I'm sure Wyatt and Sarah can handle it."

"So this—it's got to do with Zach," stated Piper, eyeing Wyatt who dropped his face into his palms. She returned her gaze to Anakin who remained resolute. "And it's got nothing to do with magic."

Anakin kept silent for a minute but broke under the scrutinizing gaze of his mother. "It's just normal teenager problems."

"Normal!" gasped Wyatt, laughing hollowly. "Out of all of us, all of us! Not one of us had this problem."

Anakin shrugged.

The sisters frowned.

"Alright, one of you is going to fill us in," implored Phoebe.

Anakin shook his head sadly. "Sorry, Phoebe, it's not my place." He stood up. "I've got a conference call with our allies in Washington. Excuse me."

"Coward," whispered Wyatt as Anakin walked past him. Anakin flipped him off careful to do so when his mother could not see.

Three sets of eager eyes settled on Wyatt.

"Damn," he groaned.

Paige sighed and gave into her sympathy for her godson. "We just want to help, but we won't force it out of you. Right?"

Phoebe caved next and nodded. Piper folded her arms, face stern.

"Piper," hissed Paige.

The matriarch rolled her eyes. "Of course. We just want to help."

Wyatt offered his mother a thankful smile. "I know. Thank you."

He slowly got up. "Now, I've got to yell at my irresponsible son."

* * *

Pyrrha sat hunched over at the desk Anakin conjured for her. They had turned the basement into a miniature version of a world-class research library. A half dozen servers hummed behind her. Each server was tasked with different search criteria. An old colleague from Magic School who specialized in technokinesis, the ability to magical manipulate technology, had crafted a spell to magically hide their digital fingerprint; it allowed them to connect the servers to the outside world for a few hours every day. The massive computer underneath her desk acted as a download dump, giving them access to the found information during the time required to keep the servers offline.

Currently, her monitor was black. She was carefully translating a text in Latin written by an apothecary around the same time as Julius Caesar was assassinated give or take a few months. She had a theory that certain historical events were influenced by Lucifer's manipulations. During those times his presence would disturb the energies of the world, and she hoped those disturbances would lead to something, a revelation.

Her sister had her own desk. It was piled with printed photographs of stones marked with hieroglyphics and cuneiform. Two massive dusty leather-covered tomes sat on one corner; they were written in a language Pyrrha could not even guess at. Anakin had taken a quick look at it and pronounced them from China but was not familiar with the alphabet. Pyrrha did not think the text looked Chinese, but she did not argue with Anakin's declaration. Penelope had yet to try and decipher their contents.

They were inundated with possible clues and information. It would require a small army of dedicated researchers years to sort through everything they had collected so far. She could only fathom how much longer it would take to make sense of the information and rule out false trails. The whole effort felt hopeless.

"Mom's worried about you."

Pyrrha jumped. She had not realized Penelope had returned from lunch. She saw the concern in her sister's eyes.

"I'm fine, Pen."

Penelope sighed. "You need to eat. You skip the last three meals."

"I've got my snacks." She patted a small plastic bag of nuts and dried fruit.

They did not have the time for her to take hours out of her day to join in with the family mealtimes. She was the only one working on the research full-time. Penelope had her children to look after, so did their baby brother. Henry Jr. did come down and help during little Ivan's naps, but it amounted to only a few hours a day. He also had an active power useful in a battle. He needed to train.

Training and coordinating attacks kept Anakin busy most days. The blond witch was barely seen around the Compound. He had spent at least two weeks away just a few weeks ago. He returned with news of the greater part of the eastern seaboard being freed from Lucifer's reign. The victory was a milestone, but it also meant their allies had territory to protect. Progress in terms of new re-captures would be slow while Lucifer remained a threat.

The victory bothered Pyrrha. It cost a great many lives both mortal and magical, but not nearly to the level she was expecting, especially since it meant Washington D. C. was now under their command. She could not understand why Lucifer would surrender a strategic city like the capital of the United States without making an appearance, yet not even one of his three remaining lieutenants were seen in the fray by Anakin.

"…maybe at least go up to say morning? Py?"

Pyrrha forced herself to focus on her twin sister. "What? Sorry."

Penelope sighed dramatically. "Never mind. Have you at least found something?"

Pyrrha's eyes wondered over the stacks of books and artifacts scattered around the room. "I—um…"

"You need to take a break. Being cooped up down here is not helping anyone."

Pyrrha laughed hollowly. "This is nothing, sis. I spent two weeks stuck in that cramped genetics lab during the week leading up to my dissertation. I'm used to working long hours in less inviting environments than this. We need to find some clue or something."

Penelope sat down at her desk, thumbed through one of the thinner volumes. "Most of this is junk, the ravings of madmen and mortals way too interested in demonology. I did a quick search for popular novels about angels; there nearly four hundred thousand fictional novels out there, forget including religious texts and writings. Why'd Anakin think this was a good idea?"

"Because he thinks we can find a weakness…"

Penelope rolled her eyes. "If there was a weakness, it'd be in the Book."

"Not necessarily. The Book is a recording of what our family and ancestors encountered. There was a vanquishing potion or spell for Hellequin in it, but I don't think it was accurate. The witch that wrote the entry certainly had no idea Hellequin was a Power."

Someone knocked on the basement's door. Both sisters looked at each other and frowned. No one knocked.

"Who is it?" yelled Penelope.

The door cracked up, filling the cool room with the faint echoes of a full house.

"Um…"

"Stopping being silly," whispered another voice.

The first voice grew stronger. "Um, it's Danny and Drew."

Pyrrha's frown deepened. Penelope shrugged.

"Come on down," she called.

The two teen boys descended the steps and stopped on the last one. Both were fidgety; Daniel more so than Andrew.

"We—er—I was wondering if you needed help," stuttered Danny.

Pyrrha studied both boys. "What's brought this on?"

"Py! Be nice," admonished Penelope.

"We don't have time for distractions," hissed Pyrrha.

Penelope ignored her sister. "Do you know what we're doing?"

Andrew nodded. "Zach told us. You're looking for anything about—uh—the Powers."

Pyrrha smirked mildly impressed the teen was able to stop himself from saying Lucifer. They did not want to attract his attention and avoided saying his name as best they could. "Correct. We are. Are you able to read other languages?"

"I know Spanish," said Andrew helpfully.

Penelope gave him a small smile. "There are some texts in English. Plus, there's a lot of information on the computers we've not gotten to."

Daniel cleared his throat. "I—um—I took Latin. I know the basics. I'm a little bit more fluent in Arabic and Farsi because of my dad."

"Perfect. We've got a few articles we've been meaning to take up to Layla but haven't yet. See what you can make of them. Then just start going through the piles, one at a time. Even if you can't understand everything, skimming to find keywords will help. Pyrrha or I can look at anything you find in more detail." Penelope looked at her sister with a questioning glance. One eyebrow raised in a challenge.

Pyrrha nodded her consent and went back to studying the apothecary's journal. The basement drifted into a drone-less silence. Pages ruffled. The boys shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Mindlessly, Pyrrha reached for her snacks and munched on a nut or two. Hours went by. Penelope left to help get all the little kids ready for dinner. Pyrrha moved on from the journal, finding only vague useless alliterations and poetic language to describe destruction and something about a garden.

"Um—Ms. Love?"

Pyrrha looked up from a French Medieval article on the archangels. She was surprised to find both boys standing in front of her desk. Daniel was holding a piece of paper. He laid it on the table in front of her and pointed to a specific phrase.

"I keep finding references like this. Andrew's found a few as well. What does a garden have to do with all this?"

Pyrrha brows furrowed, aging her. She read the indicated line and stopped breathing. It was too similar to be a coincidence. She had dismissed the references. The Garden of Eden, or something similar, appeared in a few Creation myths; one of the few times the archangels were believed to walk visibly on the Earth. The phrasing was archaic and out of place in the document.

"How similar were the other references?" she asked quickly, not looking up.

"Very—I think," muttered Danny.

She took a deep breath. "Try and find the other ones. I need to see. Um—please, and thanks."

Andrew heaved a tome of his own onto the desk. "Is this similar enough?"

The text was in Middle English, but the line was older in syntax. She would have to check with Penelope. Language was her sister's forte. She looked at the two untranslatable books on her sister's desk. They needed to figure this out.

The sound of small feet interrupted her thought process. Phebe Halifax climbed down into view, gripping tightly to the railing. She reached the bottom and looked immensely pleased with herself.

"Mommy says it's dinner time."

Andrew's stomach chose to growl obnoxiously. "So does my tummy," he joked.

Phebe giggled. The boys glanced at Pyrrha. She relented. They were on to something, but she would never pry her sister away from a family dinner. Research would just have to wait. Phebe took her hand and pulled her along hurriedly back up to the kitchen.

Even after nearly a year of living at the Compound Pyrrha was not used to the organized chaos of a Halliwell family dinner. Dinners had been unruly enough when she was a child, but now there was an entirely new generation gathered around the tables. She did miss Christmas lunch at the Manor.

Trailing along in the serpentine line, she found herself between Anakin and a quiet Kenny. She frowned; finding it curious the teen was not further up with the rest of the older children. Unfortunately, it would not be her place to ask. They were only acquaintances. Anakin, choosing to include them both in the conversation between himself and Nathan Torres, saved her the internal debate.

"…right, Kenny? Pyrrha?"

Kenny's eyes widened. "Um, what?"

Anakin smiled and repeated the question. "Photography is a difficult art form, right?"

Pyrrha gulped. Art was not her forte.

Kenny lit up. "It takes a certain eye, sure, but I wouldn't say it's difficult. At least, it's not harder than any other type of art. You're a photography?"

Nathan nodded. "I worked for the New York Times. My true passion is nature photography."

"Do you work in all digital or…"

Pyrrha tuned out the conversation but caught the knowing smirk lingering on Anakin's lips. She rolled her eyes. "You did that on purpose."

Anakin shrugged. "He's had a tough few days: news about his girlfriend and her family. How goes the research?"

"It'd be going a lot faster if you let us use translation spells. We could get everyone down there and at least make a headway."

Anakin shook his head. "Translation spells are almost as bad as plugging the stuff into an online translating tool. You'll lose the nuisances. Plus, I'd prefer to keep the research group small. It'll get harder to keep things off his radar if we all worked on it."

Pyrrha crossed her arms. "He's spying on us. Surely he already knows?"

"He's a very capable spy, and from what I've heard Set is almost his equal. I'm certain they know we're researching something. I'm, also, fairly certain they don't know the details." Anakin picked up a plastic plate. "There are about a dozen telepathic inhibition wards built into the new system. It's not perfect, but it'll make him pinpointing any one thing difficult."

Pyrrha nodded along, adding a heaping pile of green beans to her plate. Apparently, she was hungrier than she imagined. "They're strong enough to keep Uriel from just coming in."

"But he still knows just about everything we're up to. Powers are connected to magic on a level we can barely comprehend. The only way to truly ward an area off from a Power would be to completely remove magic—an all but impossible feat."

"How do you know so much?"

Anakin's smirk returned. "I did spend quite a few years being trained by Uriel. Even my thick skull couldn't keep all the information out."

"So that's where you were—um—all those years?" She picked a few chicken drumsticks.

"Time passes differently in the Beyond, but essentially yes. I spent a bit of time where you'd normally end up, but—I couldn't stay. My soul is not wholly human."

Pyrrha nearly dropped her plate piled with food. "What?"

Anakin shrugged. "There aren't a lot of substances capable of extinguishing Holy Fire. Even though Uriel acted as quickly as he did—what I did to destroy Aeglaeca did a lot of damage." He blinked and his baby blue eyes changed color. One turned emerald and the other a much darker more unsettling blue. "The eyes are the windows to the soul," he whispered morosely.

Pyrrha composed herself. "So you're—what?"

"I'm me. There's just this—uh—other stuff holding my soul together. Think of it as supernatural superglue. That's how I wrapped my mind around it."

His tone was joking, but she saw the pain in his unfamiliar eyes. Her heart ached for him. She reached out and laid her hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked down at it. Confusion flickered over his face. He smiled weakly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to be a downer," he murmured.

Pyrrha chewed her lip. "You can talk to me," she offered.

Anakin shook his head. "Thanks, but we don't have time. Let's get the job done first."

Pyrrha nodded slowly. She ate a few mouthfuls of food in silence.

"We need to talk," she blurted out.

Anakin looked up from his own plate. "What?" he asked excitedly.

"After dinner. We need to get Penny. I think we may have found something."

The blond witch nodded his head somberly but did not press her for more information. It struck her how much the young man before her had grown up despite not looking much older than the day he died. He had always been an inquisitive boy to the point of aggravating. She continued to eat her dinner, lost in silent thought. The low drone of dozens of conversations surrounded her. Little giggles punctuated the evening. In the first time, in a long time, she felt like she could breathe. The weight of her research lifted if only for a few blessed minutes.

Anakin left the table after a few minutes, following a sulking Zach out toward the kitchen. He returned sans the teenager just as she finished the last piece of her peach cobbler. He looked tired, his eyes dull and the remnants of an angry blush highlighted his cheeks.

"Everything alright?" she asked when he reached their mostly abandoned table.

Anakin blinked and sighed heavily. "Yeah, he's not angry with me."

Pyrrha glanced over at the table with the rest of Anakin's siblings. Wyatt was pushing his melted vanilla ice cream around with a bent spoon. Sarah appeared to be talking to Prue, but she kept looking in the direction of the kitchen. Both parents were clearly under strain and trying not to show it.

"What's going on?"

Anakin shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Not my place to say."

Pyrrha nodded still at a complete loss. "But it will be fine."

"There isn't any—uh—physical reason for it to not be," he answered cryptically.

Before she could further her interrogation, he changed the subject. "Hey, Penny!"

Penelope who was helping heard a ground f the younger children up the stairs looked over her shoulder. She said something to Payton and walked over to them. Somehow, Andrew and Daniel appeared at the same moment, both brimming with eagerness. Anakin frowned for half a second before accepting their inclusion in silence.

"What's up?" inquired Penelope. "The kids all need to be bathed. They found out playing in the mud is a blast. We got them mostly cleaned up for dinner but…"

Pyrrha leaned in conspiratorially. "We think we found something."

Penelope snapped her mouth shut. Her eyes grew large, and she eyed Anakin. "Seriously?"

Anakin shrugged. "I've not heard anything. Your sister was waiting for you."

Pyrrha ruffled her deep red hair. "It'll be easier to show you."

She led the way to the basement. Gathering the few examples she had of the passage, she passed them over to Anakin. She held onto the one Daniel had found. Andrew and Daniel stood to one side, bouncing on the balls of their feet. She pointed out the section of text.

"This is translated word for word in all these documents. It's a description of a garden once open to the world. In it were all these amazing natural features, including these two trees in the center."

"The Garden of Eden," supplied Anakin almost dismissively.

Pyrrha grimaced. "I don't think so. There are other references to the Garden of Eden, mainly in the texts from the Abrahamic faiths. These words appear in Hindu, ancient Greek, the Celtic religions. If Penny finds it in those two texts which most certainly predate any texts that could reasonably be assumed to be influenced by the Garden of Eden myth—this could be it. Look at the passage. It uses the same archaic style no matter the language. It's as if—as if the words can't be written any other way."

Penelope pulled one of the tomes toward her. "This is in pictographs predating any known written language. Where'd we find it?"

Anakin coughed. "It's not exactly human in origin."

"What!"

"It was in that temple I searched a few months back. I thought it was just a holy text for the entomata initially, but they did not have a written tongue. The chamber, it was designed by a Power," explained the blond sheepishly.

"This is the chamber you dragged my son and Kenny to?" asked Chris from the stairs.

Anakin bowed his head. "Correct."

Chris frowned. "They told me the story. You read an inscription in entomata to get out of the chamber."

"Actually it was in the tongue of angels, the language spoken by all beings before the banishment of Lucifer."

Penelope interrupted any form of argument. "That's what the book is written in?"

Anakin shook his head. "I don't recognize the script. My best guess it is a dialect unfamiliar to Uriel."

"Is that possible?" asked Pyrrha anxiously.

Anakin faced her. "There's a great deal Uriel does not know or is unwilling to share." He tone of distaste pulled at his facial features.

Andrew fidgeted, drawing the attention of all the adults to him. He gulped. "Um, I…" he fell silent unsure what he wanted to say.

Chris ignored the teens and crossed the distance between him and Anakin in a few determined strides. He grabbed a bunch of Anakin's shirt in his fist and shoved his brother into Pyrrha's desk. His eyes narrowed. "No more games, Anakin."

Anakin looked down at Chris's fist. "Not a game."

Chris released him and crossed his arms. "Bullshit. Every step there's been something you've kept from us. Using Zach as a spy. I'm positive you suspected the depth of Kenny's issues long before that night. Hell, the exploration of that chamber was months ago. You've had this book lying around for months!"

"Chris!" exclaimed Pyrrha, trying to pry the brothers apart.

Chris roughly pushed her aside. His eyes blazed with anger. "No, Pyrrha. We've all talked about it. You can't tell me you've questioned his loyalties."

At the word, the room shook sending Chris stumbling backward. He tripped over his feet and fell, hard. Anakin's eyes shone brightly. His face set in a stern expression of extreme disapproval. He opened his mouth. The sound caused the rest in the room the clapped their hands over their ears in an attempt to save their eardrums. The blond witch took a deep measured breath and visibly fought to bring himself back under control.

When he spoke it was in his normal voice. "Never question my loyalty. Everything, everything I've done is to save this family. My family." His body shook with suppressed rage.

Chris crawled back and struggled back onto his feet, helped by Daniel and Andrew. "Then tell us. Talk to us. Stop acting like the fucking self-important Elders!"

"I CAN'T!" Anakin snapped. "I literally can't. You know I can't. This isn't a choice. I must abide by the laws, not rules—laws. I stray—if I try and break—giving you everything I know will restrict your free will, your choice. Free will is an absolute right. If a Power or I mess with it, there're dire consequences. It's what weakened Aeglaeca enough for me to destroy him: his manipulations of our family. The consequence for me—I vanish. I don't die—I vanish. I cease to exist."

Everyone stared at him in shock.

Anakin closed his eyes and sighed. "It would not matter to me—to vanish, but I know you'll need me. The battle, the final battle, it'll be deadly. It'll be a miracle if we all make it out alive. I'm hoping the sacri—I'm planning to be the one to die should it come to it. Understand? This isn't me being aloof. It's the only way I can see to be there when the time comes." His eyes were filled with tears by the end of his speech. He took a shuddering breath in and turned away from them.

The room kept silent. No one dared move or even breathe.

Chris took a step forward. "Anakin…"

Anakin shook his head. "Don't, Chris! Let's get back to the matter at hand. Penny, can you translate the book?"

Penny hesitated but chose to sit down. She poured over the book, flipping through pages rapidly. She stopped midway. Her brows furrowed. She dragged her finger across the same line in the text a half-dozen times.

"It's not trees," she whispered.

"What?"

She sat back and looked at them. "The two trees—the word isn't tree, well it is, but it could mean—Power with a capital 'P.'"

"Read it to us," instructed Anakin.

She cleared her throat. "The last and greatest of gates guard a sacred garden. In the garden is the greatest beauty in all creations. At the center, in the heart of a grand orchard stand two sister Powers…"

Chris's breath hitched in his throat. "Orifiel and Simiel."

"What?" questioned Penelope at the same time as Daniel.

Pyrrha grabbed a book off the shelf behind her and slapped it down on her desk. It opened to a page listing out archangels. "They are listed as archangels in some texts, not much is known about them. Some suggest they were the caretakers of the Garden of Eden before the Fall."

Anakin waved his hand and a holographic picture of a mosaic appeared in mid-air. The mosaic depicted seven figures, five men and two women. It was the artistic rendering of the Powers from the temple as seen by Kenny. He pointed at the two women. "Do they look familiar to you?"

Pyrrha gasped. "Impossible."

"I don't get it," insisted Andrew.

Anakin gestured again. Two pictures appeared alongside the hologram. "This is a painting of the fictional fairy queen Mab. The other is of Titania."

Andrew shrugged. "Still not getting it."

"They're one and the same. Orifiel and Simiel are Mab and Titania, probably a dozen other mythological goddesses. It makes sense."

"Lucifer said something similar when he was interrogating me," admitted Chris.

Anakin chuckled at the irony. "Looks like we're looking for a portal into fairyland, and not the types of fairies Mom and the aunts dealt with before. These are far more powerful figures."

"You think they're in another realm?" asked Pyrrha.

Anakin nodded. "They couldn't exist fully on this plane, not without a counterbalance to their powers. We'll need to find their realm."

"We know someone who's ripped the fabric of reality before," said Chris.

"And so does Lucifer," whispered Anakin.

* * *

AN: And so we begin the countdown. What did we all think? Almost everything is on the table now. Thank you to everyone who is sticking with me. It means a lot.


	15. Perfect Illusion

AN: I'm terribly sorry for the wait. No excuse, just life. Here's the next chapter.

* * *

PERFECT ILLUSION

Uriel waited beside a grand white figure serving as a grave marker for a very egotistical man. The marble depicted a robed figure with skeletal features and bearing an overly large scythe. He sneered, turning his head away from the grotesque representation of death. He always found mortals' beliefs on the afterlife ridiculous. The idea one of his Thanatos being capable of altering a human's destiny was laughable. Even the Angels of Destiny could only influence situations to a point. Only free will stood a chance of modifying the course of the universe.

An aged couple shuffled along the muddy pathway. The woman barely more than skin and bones clutched tightly to a bouquet of wilting irises. The man begrudgingly waddled along beside her clearly only in the cemetery to appease his sickly wife. Uriel watched them pause in front of a grave. The woman reverently arranged the flowers across the simple slab of mottled limestone.

Rain began, blurring the scene. The man hurried his wife along with sharp words. The silent Power That Be kept his distance until the couple rounded the corner. He approached the grave slowly.

"I could have saved him."

Uriel spun around, raising his hand. A fireball half-formed before sputtering out of existence. "Anakin," he hissed.

Anakin moved forward, stepping out of shadows cast by a once magnificent oak tree. The tree was dead and decaying. The gloom of the weather thickened around them. Somehow, the rain failed to fall on the grave.

"Using his powers is dangerous," warned Uriel not looking at the powerful blond witch.

Anakin scoffed. "Like anything else we've done isn't? Why choose to meet here? Being this close to the city—Lucifer could sense us."

Uriel rotated his head enough to allow him to vaguely make out the silhouette of a ruined but familiar skyline. Beyond the broken city, a dark maelstrom spun over the Bay. Uriel lamented and returned to reading the tombstone.

"He succeeded where you did not," commented the Power wearily.

Anakin ground his teeth and balled his hands into fists. "He was terminal. All he had to look forward to was a slow agonizing death."

Uriel eyed the young witch, studying him. "So, how could you have saved him?"

"By being there!" snapped Anakin. The marble statue of Death cracked in half. "I could have healed him."

Uriel folded his arms in the depths of his black robes. "Your powers were not meant to be used in such a fashion. Neither twin was a charge. They were not destined to play a part in the Grand Design. Magic was not theirs to benefit from."

Narrow-eyed, Anakin stepped up to the immortal, standing toe-to-toe. "He was my friend," he growled.

"Friends die."

Lightning struck the diseased oak tree, setting it ablaze. "So do pompous, self-righteous assholes."

Uriel stared at him impassively. Anakin lowered his gaze.

"You asked for a meeting."

Fingernails cut into his palms; his whole body shook. "Why here?" repeated Anakin.

Sighing, Uriel motioned to a gravesite further up the hill. "A grave can be a powerful symbol."

Anakin bit back a retort. He took a deep breath. He replied in a more even tone. "That's not even where I'm buried. There were no remains."

"Nevertheless, it is the place your loved ones chose to mourn your passing. Such displays, the concentration of emotions, it creates ripples," explained Uriel waspishly.

Anakin rolled his eyes, recognizing the futility of pressing the issue. He turned his back on the older man. "Was anything you promised real?"

Uriel tilted his head to one side. His dark gray eyes burned brighter, almost silvery. "All of it."

"Bullshit! You said—you promised…he was supposed to be here." Anakin ended in defeat.

Uriel's lips thinned; he grew tired of the exchange. "And he is, in a sense. Your control over the elements far exceeds anything a Warren witch would be capable of, even one with a magical core such as your own."

Anakin conjured a fire ball, studied it, and crushed it into ash. The rain lashed around them. "You made me believe…"

"Your hopes made you project promises beyond any I gave. Do not confuse your misinterpretation with a failure on my part. You, on the other hand, have all but obliterated your side of the bargain. Killing my brother was never part of the deal." Uriel's eyes flashed a deathly and deadly white. Power cold and ancient rolled off him, turning rain into steam.

"How else do you want to curtail his powers? Push him back into the cage? He'd be free within a week!"

Uriel bared his teeth. The ground shook beneath them. "The cage was his destiny. To able to influence, but not interact physically with the world until the final battle."

Anakin spun around and glowered at Uriel. The Power That Be's power and influence faltered. He shrunk back to more of the old man he impersonated.

"This is the final battle! Do you get that? One way or the other, the Grand Design ends—with his death or…"

"You wish to fulfill the prophecy," whispered Uriel, shocked.

Anakin slammed his fist down on a gravestone. "No! The prophecy will fulfill itself. I am here to save my family."

Uriel drew back into the darkness cast by his robes. "Be careful. The world of the Fae is more dangerous than anything you've imagined. Even Abaddon left it alone."

Anakin drew up short. "You will not join us, then?"

Uriel shook his head. "My place is here."

The wind stirred around them, whipping up flecks of mud and debris. The rain started to fall on the grave. Anakin vanished. Uriel closed his eyes. Age marred his shadowy features. Slipping into the darkness, he murmured a pleading pray.

* * *

Zach gawked at the adults calmly assembled around the dining room table, flabergasted. When his dad had summoned him, he had prepared himself for yet another lecture. The inclusion of his grandmother, Pyrrha, Penelope, and his aunt and uncles made his heart beat faster. His parents had promised to not tell anyone about the situation with his girlfriend. He vacillated between dread and anger for a few moment, then his uncle revealed the true purpose of the gathering.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he exclaimed breathlessly.

"Language," admonished his mother automatically.

He could tell from the lack of confusion and disbelief in the expressions on his family members' faces he was in the minority concerning his thoughts on the matter. Dreams of the night he performed the resurrection ritual woke him up at night covered in a cold clammy sweat. He had absolutely no desire to ever attempt anything even close to approaching that type of magic. The naagolishii's magic felt like a warm summer breeze compared to the slick inky darkness of necromancy. His eyes settled on his uncle's neutral face. Nonverbally, he pleaded for Anakin to see reason.

"Our time is limited. Were there any other option available to us—I'd use it in a heartbeat. Believe me. The facts, unfortunately, are against us. Set's experiments in summoning devils give him a great insight into traveling between planes of existence. We don't have a choice. You are our only hope to get ahead of them," explained the slender blond. Each word sounded like it was ripped out of him. This was not something he took any pleasure in asking.

Zach glared at his dad, accusingly. "How? You know! Better than even Annie…I won't do it. I c—can—can't."

Wyatt's eyes softened in understanding. "I know, kiddo, but this is our best chance at ending this."

"What makes you think these two Powers will even help us? They've clearly not given a shit what's gone on here for quite some time. Did Raphael ever mention them? Gabriel? What about Uriel, Annie? Did your gracious master give you any fucking clue about his missing sisters?" hissed Zach, words dripping with sarcasm and pain.

Anakin kept his voice level and his tone light. "Uriel prefers to keep his family issues to himself whenever possible. This isn't his idea."

Zach threw his hands up in the air. "Perfect! Just perfect. Not only are you asking me to do some of the darkest magic ever—you don't even have a clue if it will work. In fact, I'd wager if Uriel is against this, he thinks it won't…"

"No," interrupted Anakin gently but firmly. "Uriel is against us talking to Simiel and Orifiel, because, he doesn't want us to kill Lucifer. His plan is to lock him back in the cage until the final battle."

This drew a few gasps and disapproval from everyone gathered.

Piper chose to intervene before the debate began in earnest. "What about An Ling? She could travel between Limbo and this plane. We could find her…"

Anakin shook his head. "We don't have the time. Lucifer could have Set already working on creating a portal. We know he's turned his sights to something other than world domination."

"Portal creation is a rare power, but it's not unheard of—plenty of demons we've faced had the power. The Elder's sent Mom and the aunts back in time. And the Avatars…" began Chris.

Anakin laughed harshly. "You know any Avatars, Chris?"

Chris crossed his arms defensively. "I'm just saying—Zach—we can find another way."

"Not in time!" snapped Anakin

"Then you shouldn't have been so slow to letting us in on the plan," yelled Chris, jumping to his feet.

"ENOUGH!" Everyone went dead still at Piper's pronouncement. "Christopher, we've been through the blame game. It. Is. Over. Anakin, you've got to be more patient." Her stern glance kept Anakin from talking. "Zach, could you maybe talk us through the ritual at least?"

Zach closed his eyes; his whole body shook with dread. Summoning ever ounce of courage he possessed, he started. "It required a summoning circle built out of powerful ancient artifacts, like crazy powerful. The gold forming the main encompassing circle was from the Ark of the Covenant. The symbols carved into the stone were—I don't know…I've never seen them before. No—wait…I have." He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking hard. "They're similar to the ones on Kenny's Book of Shadows."

All eyes turned to Anakin.

"Kenny's Book of Shadows?" asked the blond.

Zach nodded, opening his eyes. More sure of himself, he continued, "Yeah, it's not like our Book. It's just a raggedy old journal, but it's got a pentagram on the cover. Inside each of the pentagram's arms is a symbol. They're not exactly like the ones I remember, but they're close."

"Kenny's father was an elemental," said Chris with a hint of wonder.

Pyrrha's eyes brightened. "Yeah, remember at Lucien and Jonathan's house—it was their mother's place…it had that room. It was too big to be a part of the apartment. The doorway could have been a portal to a pocket universe."

Anakin chewed on his bottom lip. "Kenny isn't a Coven's patriarch nor is he an Archai."

"A what?" queried Zach, confused.

"An elemental with the ability to control all the elements. They're extremely rare. I've only ever heard of two: Lucien and Tyler Michaels, both deceased," whispered Pyrrha. Her mind swirled with possibility. Her eyes widened as an idea took shape. "But—but…you—you could…yes. You said—of course! Annie, you said when Uriel saved you he infused a part of himself into your soul."

Anakin nodded slowly. "That's right," he said hesitantly.

"But—but that couldn't have been all he did. No mortal body can contain the amount of essence from a Power necessary to reverse the damage done by Holy Fire. I mean what Uriel used to save you is pretty much that same stuff as Holy Fire. No mortal vessel could accommodate that much power. It'd be ripped apart at the seams."

"Mortal vessel?" questioned Wyatt, struggling to follow.

Pyrrha ignored him and continued to stare intently at Anakin. "So unless you're immortal—he would have used someone close to you, someone, who only recently passed away."

A few others, Piper and Sarah in particular, gasped, as they understood the implications.

"I always thought your fire balls weren't the same—and you cleared away that storm just after Grandpa's funeral," murmured Chris, eyes wide.

Serena leaned over to hold Anakin's shaking hand. "Are they right?" she whispered.

Painfully, slowly, the blond nodded his head. "Yes," he breathed, comprehension dawning.

Zach frowned. "I'm lost."

"Lucien was an Archai—possibly the last one. Light and dark magic feared their powers and hunted them to the brink of extinction centuries ago. It's why we know of only two," explained Chris, still watching his youngest brother.

"He kept warning me to not use them," said Anakin, lost in a whirlwind of emotions. "He knew! He fucking knew!"

"Sucks being on the receiving end of the big reveals," mocked Prue with a small sad smile.

Anakin stood up. "I've never—he never…"

"Do you know where Lucien's family Book is?"

Anakin shook his head sadly, still lost in thought.

Chris turned to Pyrrha. "You worked on a spell to summon the Book."

"We'd need a drop of blood," bemoaned the redhead.

All three older siblings gave Anakin questioning looks. He rolled his eyes. "I'm not a weirdo! I don't wear a necklace with a drop of his blood around my neck."

Prue spoke up. "What about Tyler? Did he have a kid or…"

Everyone around the table was becoming restless. A few got up and stretched. Kyle went in search of a snack. Zach slumped back into his chair; happy the focus of the conversation was no longer on him. His gaze flicked from one face to the next. No one was pleased by the possible answer to their quest.

Piper answered the unfinished question as the rest settled. "He had a boyfriend. I met him at the funeral. He was a witch—I think—maybe he kept Tyler's Book?"

"Do you have any way of contacting him?" asked Serena.

Piper shook her head, huffing. "We only met that once."

Anakin took a deep breath. "I might—we've still got access to the government's list of magical beings."

"After Adelrich's death? I'd have thought Lucifer would've closed any loose ends. He shut down all of the Foundation's access points," admitted Chris with a deep frown.

Anakin shrugged. "Can't tell you why it still works. He's left it open for a reason, but what other choice do we have? Zach?"

Zach jumped, startled and uneasy.

Anakin gave him a grim smile. "Relax. We've moved on."

Penelope coughed. "What about the time limit? Even if we can get hold of Tyler's Book and assuming he wrote down anything about his powers—you're still going to have to learn how to use the power."

"Let's find the Book then worry about the rest," said Anakin cryptically as he stood up. "I'm exhausted. Let's continue this in the morning."

Zach folded his arms over his chest. "Just like that?"

Wyatt and Sarah gave him stern looks. He had enough sense to not return the glare, but he was not giving up. He stood up and faced Anakin. "You dragged up some of my worst memories, asked me to—and now, nothing?"

Anakin bowed his head and dragged his fingers through his hair. "We do not have the equipment to reproduce the ritual circle."

Zach choked back his retort, caught off guard. "What?"

"You described Set's ritual circle. It contained powerful magical objects."

"Oh," muttered Zach. "That's…"

Anakin eyed his siblings. "Sorry for dragging you through this."

"No—um—I want to be a part of this, of going after whatever…"

"That is up to your parents. Mom, what was the name of Tyler's boyfriend?"

"Kareem—Kareem Scales."

Anakin blurred away before she finished the final 's'.

* * *

"Five of the seven site have been discovered and destroyed, my lord," reported Set on bended knee and bowed head.

As silence resounded around him, he risked a glance up. Before him, Lucifer sat regally on his stark and impractical throne. His quiet voice echoed across the flame-lit stone room. Gone were the magical objects that had adorned the walls during the young Halliwell's tenure. All the walls lay barren, besides one. A massive and elaborate atlas of the world dangled on the fourth wall. Beyond the usual cartographic markers, thick and thin azure threads weaved across the familiar landmasses, converging on different and specific sites in varying amounts. The map charted every known ley line and nexus in existence.

The brown-haired Power flicked a piece of dust from the armrest. Set flinched causing the smaller, darker man to chuckle sadistically.

"Aware of your shortcomings already, my servant?"

Set squared his shoulders defiantly but kept his head bowed low. "There is none who could have done better."

Lucifer leaned forward in his monstrous chair. His grip tightened around the throne's sharp, cold arms. The irises of his round eyes swirled with pulsating and changing colors. A chilling smile pulled at the corner of his full lips. "Hardly a glowing review of your abilities, comparing yourself to lesser beings. Unless, you include yours truly in your remarks. In which case, you are far closer to your funeral pyre than you may wish. Choose your next words carefully, my child. I grow weary of excuses and insinuations."

The muscular blond risked looking up and meeting Lucifer's lustrous gaze. "I would never dream of comparing myself to you, my maker; I…" he faltered.

Lucifer sat back. "We have destroyed the five altars. All in places easily discerned from the convergence of the lines of power. Albeit, you managed to do so without alerting my meddlesome brother and his pet. The surviving pair were hidden from mortals. Even an extraordinarily extensive survey of ley lines will turn up nothing. I fear the last two may have been moved beyond this world."

"Not possible," susurrated Set.

"You do not know my family. Michael and Gabriel will have ensured a greater protection to these than they had erected around the Garden after the woman and man failed to heed the most basic of commands."

Lucifer abruptly stood up and strolled over to the monstrous atlas. He traced one of the thicker blue lines. It originated out of a particularly complex convergence centered over the heart of Africa. The heavy concentration of ley lines occurred over the altar Mafdet destroyed before being vanquished. The site of her destruction, a prehistoric temple, had been only a few hundred miles from the site of the oldest fossilized remnants of modern humans. Similar entanglements of lines occurred over Chicago, San Francisco, and Stonehenge. The last altar he discovered and destroyed laid hidden in the depths of the Sinai Desert. Again, Anakin had come close to discovering them at the site.

Lucifer revolved on his heels smoothly. "What have you gathered from your shadows?"

"It is as you thought: they seek your sisters," answered Set deferentially.

"They believe my sisters possess the knowledge on destroying me," mused Lucifer, folding his hands behind his back, thoughtful. "I am surprised Uriel has allowed them to follow such a dangerous path. We are coming close to the end, then."

Set licked his thin, pale, and cracked lips. "Do you wish to attack them?"

"What? No. No—my brother is too clever to not have planned for this. It will be a part of his design. He must believe our sisters have a part to play—or already are..." Lucifer trailed off. "In your studies, did you ever discover where Michael vanished to for those centuries?"

Set shook his head. "No, milord."

Lucifer clapped his hands, smirking. "Then perhaps they were foolish enough—or arrogant enough is a more apt description. Placing the altars so close. Yes, it would be poetic. It plays right into Michael's view of the world."

"What does?" asked Set, sidling up to his master.

Lucifer grinned and placed his hands on Set's shoulders. "The last altars are not objects but beings."

He cackled.

"I need you to double your surveillance on the Halliwells. We must move as soon as they do. Do not fail me in this—there will only be a fragment of time for my plan to succeed. If my brother's will plays out—we will be in a longer war than even I have the patience for."

Lucifer stepped forward and flames engulfed him, leaving a confused Set to quake and tremble in relief and renewed fear.

* * *

The wreckage of a wooden pier extended out into the dark murky water before him. He stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, watching wave after wave crash upon the sandy shore. His hair billowed in the heavy wind; the salty smell of the ocean hung on the stormy air. Black clouds swirled far above his head threatening rain or worse for the already fractured community behind him.

He had the beach to himself. Demons patrolled the area and enforced a strict curfew for the city's inhabitants. Sundown left the decrepit city seemingly deserted. Mortals hid behind locked doors. The few magical beings not on Lucifer's payroll disappeared even further from the world. Fear clung to the dark streets.

He remembered the city as a vibrant beachfront town. It had been years since he visited with Lucien. They had spent an enjoyable weekend hanging out with his maternal uncle surfing, eating, and being normal carefree teenagers; how he wished he could return to those times.

Anakin turned away from the beach as lightning struck ocean on the turbulent horizon. He unconsciously pulled his leather trench coat tighter around him as a shield against the frosty night air. Memories were a distraction he could not afford. Being caught would place more than his own life in danger.

A tall stucco building stood behind the pier cutting off a view of the distant mountains. In another life, the building had been a hotel with a rotating restaurant occupying its top floor. The better parts of the top five floors were nonexistent. Clear indications of an explosion marred the remnants. Windows were covered with plywood. Overturned cars littered the destroyed parking lot. Not a single light illuminated the scene. The only hint the structure was occupied came in the form of a satellite dish. The lack of weathering marked it as a recent addition to the building's exterior.

Anakin strode steadily across the sand covered boardwalk severing the parking lot from the beach. A streetlight flickered in the distance and died. He gently twirled a finger, increasing the power of the imminent storm. Drones and other autonomic surveillance systems would be grounded. His telepathic survey of the immediate area revealed nothing of concern. He zigzagged across the paved lot.

Knocking four times on a makeshift door near the garbage bins, the witch gave the area another careful once over. He sensed the approach of a demonic patrol, but they were still a dozen blocks to his north. A family of five slept in one of the overturned cars he had passed. The building remained disturbingly blank in his mind's eye. Someone powerful or very clever had warded it from surveillance.

Metal scraped against metal like nails on a chalkboard. A pair of deep brown, bloodshot eyes appeared in the previously hidden slot in the door. Anakin backed up a few inches and held up his hands. The eyes blinked and vanished to be replaced by another pair. These were just as brown but much older than the first.

"There was a word taught to our mutual friend by the eldest Charmed One. What was it?" asked the man behind the door in a low powerful voice. A quiver betrayed his fear.

Anakin gulped. It had been ages since he heard the story about Tyler and his mother's first meeting. There were more exciting facts in the story for an eleven-year-old to focus on than vocabulary. He took a deep breath. "Um—covet?"

The slat shut abruptly. Something rubbed against wood. There was a dull metallic thunk. The door cracked open an inch.

"You don't sound very confident in your answer."

Anakin bit his tongue to cut off an indignant rejoinder. "It's been awhile."

The door inched open enough to allow a tall and slight African American man to step out. It immediately shut behind him. The man held a gun in one hand. The other was behind his back. Anakin guessed he held a potion in the other. The blond witch carefully shuffled back a few more paces to alleviate the rising tension.

"I assure you, I'm Anakin Halliwell." He kept his hand very still and in plain view.

The man's coffee-colored eyes remained hard and unreadable. "A demon would say the same...if they believed the impossible. Everyone's heard of Anakin's death."

Anakin resisted the urge to a pull at his hair, barely. His arm twitched. The man's finger played on the gun's trigger.

"I was brought back by the Angel of Death to help with the latest crisis."

"Fat load of good you've been then," snapped the man, keeping the gun pointed at Anakin's center of mass.

Anakin jabbed his chin at the gun. "That wouldn't be much help against a demon."

The man smirked, bearing yellowing teeth. He was missing a few. "Silver bullets dipped in some of the most powerful vanquishing potions known outside the Warren coven. It might take a shot or two, but it'll get the job done."

"Impressive. Most witches would use charmed weaponry."

"We're not here for your flattery. The patrols will be in the area in a few minutes. You've got half that to convince me."

The storm broke above them. Rain quickly drenched them. Lightning struck closer to home setting a lone palm tree alight. Anakin silently cursed.

"Tyler babysat my siblings and me a few times. He'd tell the worst 'dad' jokes, and he always kept a packet of strawberry-flavored bubble gum in his right pocket."

The man laughed once and blinked. "I almost forgot…" he reminisced.

"Kareem?"

Uncertainty remained plastered on his features, but Kareem nodded slowly. "You've proven you's at least met Tyler."

"Ask anything about my family," pleaded Anakin.

Kareem bowed his head against the wind and rain. "Why'd your mother unbound Tyler's powers?"

"He wanted to attend Magic School; because, he met a boy—you."

Kareem stepped back and tapped out a rhythm on the metal door without taking his eyes off Anakin. The door opened.

"Hurry. It takes a moment for the wards to reset after we open the door."

Anakin followed the lean man into the hotel. Behind the door stood a young woman with the same frizzy black hair as Kareem.

"My cousin, Fatma," said Kareem softly.

Anakin bobbed his head. "A pleasure."

Fatma eyed Kareem quizzically almost imploringly. Kareem subtly shook his head. "Go check on your father. His bandages will need changing."

Anakin kept silent as the young woman, dressed in rags, brushed past them and headed up the stairs in the back of the room, clearly upset. His eyes swept over the room, as they continued to press deeper. It was all but pitch black. From the little he could make out, they were in what used to be the laundry for the hotel. A couple industrial-sized washing machines lay on their sides.

"Charming," muttered Anakin.

Kareem stopped at a pair of swinging doors. "We make do. How did you find that number?"

Anakin hugged himself against the cold slowly settling into his bones. "The government had lists of known witches. I have one of the computers that can access the database. You'll be happy to know they think you and your family died in the assault on Tallahassee."

"My mother died during our escape," said Kareem monotonously. "Dad was killed by a rabid pack of dogs as we trekked through the Everglades. My aunt, Fatma's mother, vanished one night near the Arizona border. I suspect it was vampires. We lost scores of others to demons and witch hunters. There are only ten of us left."

"I'm sorry," said Anakin.

They reached a windowless room lit by a single candle on a long table. Along the wall hung weapons of all sorts. Anakin recognized vanquishing potions. This was a war room.

"You said you needed something."

Anakin tore his eyes from a pile of bloody clothes and bandages. "What happened?"

"The day after your call, a few of us were attacked while scavenging for food. We lost our doctor. I made do with the scant knowledge I have on first aid. A doctorate in English literature isn't a whole lot of help in the apocalypse."

"You'd be surprised," murmured Anakin. He shook his head. "After—if you want…I can help."

Kareem's lips thinned. He sat down, placing the gun on the table. "Most aren't happy I've allowed you to come. They want you gone."

Anakin nodded his head sadly. "Well, at least let me restock your stores."

"What did you come here for?" repeated Kareem, dismissing the offer.

"Right—do you have Tyler's Book of Shadows?"

Kareem frowned, thrown. "Why would you need it? Your family has a far more extensive one."

"Unfortunately, it is limited to witchcraft. The knowledge I'm seeking extended into the sort Tyler developed."

Kareem crossed his arms. "What could you need with how it feels to sense water climb through a tree?"

Anakin closed his eyes, breathing steadily. He could not afford to lose his patience. "We're working on a theory—I can't go into details. I'm sorry."

"The book—his Book, it's all I have left of him. It's our arsenal against demons. The bullets were his idea."

"I have a spell to duplicate it." Anakin held his breath.

Kareem stood up. He strode over to a cupboard in the corner. He returned with a book covered in well-worn tan leather, etched into the cover was a tree with its roots forming a pentagram.

"He had terrible handwriting." Kareem offered the book to Anakin.

He accepted it. "Can't be worse than Chris's chicken scratch."

He opened it and gasped. The first page was a short entry on the Charmed Ones. His eyes filled with tears, another reminder of a friend lost. Sniffing, he waved his right hand over the book. His left conjured a blank notebook. Black ink began to drain out of Tyler's Book and dribble into the pages of the notebook. The spell took five minutes to work through. As the last droplets of black liquid squeezed into the notebook, its cover glowed. Wisps of smoke rose from its surface. The tree symbol decorated the stiff matted black and white cardboard front.

"Done." Anakin returned the book to Kareem. "Thank you."

Kareem hugged the book to his chest. "I hope it's worth it."

"So do I."

* * *

"Come on, Dad!" cried Zach. "Isn't this exactly the sort of thing we've been training for?"

Wyatt leaned stiffly against the doorframe of his son's bedroom. His arms rested firmly across his chest, and his face was set in a resolute expression. The last hour of argument and persuasion began to fray his patience and nerves. He ground his molars together.

Sarah sat beside their son on his bed. She took his hands in her own. Softening her expression, she opened her mouth. Words failed her. Fear threatened to engulf her, leaving her frozen in place.

"You let us become Charmed. You always said powers came with a responsibility to protect the innocent. It's pretty difficult to do that from inside this house," argued Zach, sensing an opening.

"You're still on lockdown because of everything with Rebecca," warned Wyatt.

Zach rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Dad, going out and saving the world must top grounding even in your messed up idea of the universe."

"Don't talk to your father like that," ordered Sarah, breaking out of her stupor. She looked up at her husband. "What does Anakin say?"

Wyatt shrugged. "He's leaving it up to us," he sighed.

"This feels right. I feel it in here." Zach pointed sharply at his chest.

"It's an unknown, Zachary," started Wyatt.

"Don't call me that," sniped Zach angrily.

Wyatt sighed. "We've got no idea what this realm will be like. It's too dangerous."

"You'll be there. Please, Dad—Mom," implored Zach.

Sarah pulled him into a hug. "We love you."

"And I love you," said Zach automatically.

Sarah shook her head. She took him by the shoulders. She waited until he looked her in the eyes be continuing. "Listen, whatever we decide—remember: we love you." She stood up. Wrapping an arm around Wyatt's waist she pried him away from the door and down the hall.

Moments passed, and Matt appeared in a swirl of orbs. "What did they say?"

"God's sake, Matt!" exclaimed Zach, heart beating faster.

Matt ignored the outburst. "This is all up to you. My parents will fold if your parents do."

Zach fell back onto his bed and stared at the cobwebs hanging from the roof. "They're not ready to treat us as equals," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well, we're not—not really. You do remember your dad is the Twice Blessed. Your mom's like the last active Guardian. My dad's a walking encyclopedia of spells and curses. We've only been at this for two-ish years. I've not even saved my first real innocent yet." Matt summoned the desk chair with a twitch of his finger. He sat down.

Zach laid back, covered his eyes with the back of his arm, and sighed. "Arguing to go with was your idea. You said you'd already been on a mission, and I quote, 'it was awesome.'"

Matt chuckled. "You know me—overselling everything. That whole temple thing was fucking scary. You didn't see Annie. I just—we chose to become Charmed. It's written in the front of the Book that we're to defend the innocent. Ever since we—uh—um—it feels wrong to sit things out. You know what I mean?"

Still laying flat on his back, Zach shrugged. He stared up at the roof. "How's being a big brother?"

"It's good, great. She loves playing peek-a-boo. 'Though mom's gotten a lot more possessive since this whole fairyland plan hatched." Matt rocked back, effortlessly balancing himself and the chair on its back legs. "How're things with Becca?"

Zach laughed hollowly. "We're only allowed to see each other in public spaces, and at least one adult has to be within eyesight. Dad's placed this spell on my door and her room so we can't sneak around at night. Fucking annoying."

Matt rolled his eyes. "A problem of your own making. You can conjure shit—seriously, dude!"

"Heat of the moment," muttered Zach, cheeks heating up.

"I got the talk from my dad and Grandma. There's no amount of horniness that's going to make me risk having a repeat experience," mocked Matt.

Zach jerked his chin. A pillow rose off the bed and hit Matt. Overbalanced, the younger teen crashed to the ground in a cloud of white feathers.

"Ass!" spluttered Matt.

Zach sat up and laughed. "Your mom keeps warning you about not balancing on chairs. You could break your neck."

Matt blew a feather off the tip of his nose. "Barring rogue flying pillows and annoying older cousins, I've never slipped up."

Crossing his legs, Zach effortlessly sat up. "Safety first."

"Whatever!" Matt waved his hand. Feathers vanished in swirls of orbs.

"Where'd you send them?"

Matt smirked. "The girl's room with a multiplication spell attached."

Shrieks echoed down the corridor. Zach and Matt burst out laughing. The door swung open. A smiling Kenny entered.

"You're insane, Matt. They're covered in blue paint."

Matt cringed. "You said it'd multiply the object."

Kenny nodded. "Yeah and turn anything the object touches the speller's favorite color."

"Shit," murmured Matt.

Zach gripped his aching sides, doubled over in a fit of laughter.

"MATTHEW ANAKIN HALLIWELL!" yelled a furious Sophia.

She barged into the room, dripping blobs of thick feathery blue paste. A barking Pax followed her, nipping at Sophia's ruined dress. Zach whistled, and the dog paused for a moment. Her gaze flickered between the dress and Zach. Obedience won out, and she grudgingly bounded onto the bed next to Zach. He stroked her watching the scene unfold before him.

"…Kenny…"

"Don't you dare! This is all you," fumed Sophia. She flicked her hand, spraying the room with feathers and paint.

"Hey," complained Zach halfheartedly.

Sophia rounded on him. The glare she gave him instantly shut him up.

"Fix this, Matthew—NOW!"

Matt bit his lip. "Um, I can't." With each word, he grew quieter.

Zach stopped petting his dog. "Soph, the spell is temporary."

The blonde drew herself to her full height. "NOW!" she screeched.

Kenny slunk further into the corner. Pax hid behind Zach, only cautiously sticking her nose out from behind him.

Paige slid her head into the room. "What is going on?"

Sophia turned around and gestured at herself.

Paige smoothly covered her smile behind her hand. The laugh turned conveniently into a cough. "Feather's?"

"From one of my pillows," explained Zach.

The older woman nodded sagely. "It won't last more than an hour, sweetie."

Sophia groaned. "Why?"

"I came up with the spell as a distraction back in my whitelighter days. There was this charge who had this nasty habit of running away and stealing stuff."

Rebecca joined Paige. She too had blue residue and feathers in her hair. "Hi."

"Hi," greeted Paige. "They got you too?"

Rebecca shrugged. "I think I was collateral damage along with our room."

"It'll all vanish in an hour. Then Matt can spend the rest of the day vacuuming and dusting the house."

Matt threw his hands up in the air. "Seriously?"

Paige nodded. "You used magic for personal gain."

"Doesn't the cosmos take care of the punishment for that?" argued Matt.

"I'd quit while it's just dusting and vacuuming," whispered Kenny.

Zach smirked and lay back down, smiling to himself. It was nice to feel normal every once in a while.

* * *

Darkness, smoky gray and thick, enveloped him. The impenetrable, citywide fog muffled the sounds of traffic and his fellow pedestrians. Once again, he silently questioned his sanity for re-entering the murky outside after an almost enjoyable lukewarm pub lunch. London was depressing at the best of times, but the weather was pulling out all the stops for his visit.

Shrugging his shoulders against the nip in the air, Wyatt fumbled his way down the cobblestone alley and back onto the main thoroughfare. He glanced over his shoulder: nothing. Ever since arriving in the city with his brother he had a nagging feeling of being watched. Chris shrugged it off as hyper-paranoia. London was the most electronically surveilled city in the world. Still, Chris had the more comfortable job of re-establishing relations with the Wizarding community. He, on the other hand, was left to fend for himself amongst a hostile public in search of a clandestine meeting with a being from his nightmares.

The lights changed. The small crowd around him in unison stepped into the street. He followed. The crowd dissipated on the other side. He continued forward until he reached the decorative barrier separating the sidewalk from the river below. A set of nearby stairs led down to its banks, but he chose to turn right. There was a bridge a mile down river: the appointed meeting place.

In no rush to stand and wait idiotically on the roadside, he took his time. Strolling along, he rehearsed all the talking points Anakin had drilled into his head a few hours prior their departure. Diplomacy was never his forte. He was better at talking than during his teenage years but not by much. Thankfully, his job involved listening to people for hours on end. A barge's horn cut through the heavy fog, almost as if marking his arrival at the bridge.

He settled into a spot midway on the bridge staring upstream. The thickness of the miasma obscured his view, so he imaged watching the barking barge steadily make its way around the bend. People continued to hustle past him hugging their coats closer or holding tightly to unopened umbrellas. Everyone was too busy to notice the one mysterious man clearly underdressed for the weather. He sighed and hugged his chest closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and played with the amethyst crystal around his neck.

A rustle of clothing announced the presence of another being. He opened his eyes but did not turn around. He felt the other person close the distance between them, stepping up to his right. He caught a whiff of jasmine and something coppery.

The woman was a head shorter than him. Her shoulder length hair was so black it had a blue tinge, save for a strip of gray, which she tucked neatly behind her left ear. She was pale, but not in a way that reminded him of a corpse. No, her cream colored skin still had hints of warmth and fresh blood in its complexion.

He turned a half an inch, careful to keep each movement slow and methodically unthreatening. Her small ice blue eyes met his sky blue. He immediately knew he was face to face with another being quite capable of killing him. Her stare had the intensity of a tigress sizing up her prey before the hunt.

She was dressed in a form-fitting black pants suit. The high heels allowed her to accentuate her highly enticing long legs. Despite the cold, she, too, wore no coat.

"Your brother is wiser than I give him credit." The words oozed sensuality.

He coughed feeling too much like an awkward teenager talking to his first crush. "Selene," he managed to articulate by way of greeting.

The Vampire Elder of London smirked, revealing the set of her pearly white fangs. "We should step out of the weather. It will rain soon."

Wyatt turned fully away from the river and felt astonishment wash over him. He stiffened, feeling very vulnerable. An entire motorcade waited for them. A Middle Eastern man dressed in traditional chauffeur garbs stood next to an open door to the black limousine.

Selene walked purposefully and soundlessly to the car and slid into the darkness of the car with the effortless grace of a jungle cat. Wyatt scratched the back of his neck nervously and followed. He toyed with his necklace and nodded his head in greetings to the chauffeur. The man remained impassive and statuesque. Swallowing his unease, the blond witch climbed into the depths of the limousine. The door snapped shut the moment he was in the car.

Selene sat, with her legs neatly crossed, on the seat facing the door. He sat down on the nearest seat without a word. A smile twitched at her lips. He discretely wiped his sweaty palms on the side of his pants. Automatically, he, again, reached from the necklace but caught Selene studying him. He lowered his hand, forcing a stiff half grin. The gorgeous vampire picked up a bottle of expensive French wine.

"Care to partake?"

Wyatt coughed and shook his head, itching to move.

The beautiful woman shrugged, somehow able to make the movement enticing, and poured herself a glass. She took a delicate sip. Wyatt found himself unable to look away.

"It is a poor substitute for blood, but we find humans are such skittish creatures. It is best to not remind them of their mortality."

Wyatt nodded, dumbfounded. His throat felt drier than the Sahara.

The car pulled away. Selene continued to sip her wine. She never took her eyes off him. Wyatt tried to keep his breathing steady; he felt a bead of sweat run down his left cheek. She batted her eyelashes, and his heart skipped a beat.

Finally, Selene adjusted her focus. Wyatt found it easier to breathe normally.

"You should relax, Twice Blessed. I know well of the fate of every being foolish enough to stand against you and your family. I have no desire to share their fates. We are here to discuss business. I do not mix pleasure with my business partners—at least not the ones I respect." She cooed.

Wyatt licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Um—uh..."

Lowering her gaze, Selene scooped up a small silver beaded purse left on the seat beside her. She delicately pulled out a folded piece of paper from it. Runes briefly burned brightly across its surface.

"Your brother left the details of our business unusually and unhelpfully vague in his correspondence. A tactic I'm sure meant to force a face-to-face meeting, but I have no comprehension as to why he would wish one, least of all with me."

Selene held out the letter. Wyatt took it, already knowing its contents. He pretended to read through it, using the time to recompose himself. Feeling his heartbeat steady, he neatly folded the letter. The runes glowed again, setting the missive alight. They both watched the graying embers float around the cabin and settle on the carpeted floor.

"Anakin Halliwell and his master are not natural allies to my kind, and to me specifically. Uriel has had his assassins try to take my life on more than one occasion. I am not of a mind to help his purposes. So, Twice Blessed, tell me why I should aid you in your endeavors, whatever they maybe." Selene finished her glass of red wine. Fierce eyes stared right through him.

Wyatt gripped his knees. His voice shook as he spoke. "Tales of the horrors wrought on these isles haven't gone unnoticed. You're no more a friend to Lucifer than you are to Uriel."

Selene knocked on the glass partition between them and the driver. The car slowed. She flipped a small metal switch. The darkened windows lightened allowing Wyatt to see outside. The dense fog parted. He recognized the scene. They were close to one of the most iconic buildings in all of London. Only the building was in ruins.

"The Royal Family all burned but for the youngest daughter. She now resides in one of my personal safe houses. In retaliation for my kindness, half of my closest allies in parliament were butchered and left strewn across the grounds of Hyde Park. The work of the bitch, Isis, I have no doubt."

Wyatt craned his neck to take in the entirety of the horror inflicted. He caressed the crystal. The light caught it releasing a soft purple glow. Burnt skeletal remains left little doubt in his mind that more than the royal family met a terrible end during the attack. He turned back. The window behind him darkened once more.

Selene arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "I have no great love for the mortals beyond their ability to provide a stable and bountiful food supply for me and mine. The continued freedom this nation enjoys has a heavy price attached to it, most of which has been paid by my people. I have no desire to recapture Lucifer's attention. We have enjoyed two months of relative peace."

Wyatt acknowledged his understanding with a nod. He kept silent unable to find words to express his thoughts. Narrowing her eyes, Selene tapped on the glass. The car picked up speed, heading out of the city. Silence descended upon them.

When Selene next spoke, they were well into the countryside. "That is an interesting necklace," she commented.

Wyatt's hand jolted aside. He had not realized he was caressing the smooth stone. "Um—yeah, a gift from my wife."

The twinkle in Selene's eye indicated she was not fooled. "She is a gifted shaman and rumored to be a true shape shifter. I must confess a mild fascination with shape shifting. My coven once used werewolves as daytime guardians. This was before we allied with the druids. They have since crafted a number of charms and potions, which negate that particular weakness of my kind. We still keep a werewolf or two employed, though. Old habits die hard."

Wyatt's eyes jumped to the opaque glass.

Selene lowered her head briefly. "A keen observation, Mr. Kessler is the last remaining heir to the Great Pack."

"I'll admit I'm not familiar with werewolf genealogy," muttered Wyatt.

An easy laugh left her succulent lips. "Oh, no matter, Twice Blessed. We would not expect you to be. Most of the werewolves in the Americas are truly cursed beings with no history or society, absolute monsters. I doubt your ancestors even thought highly enough of them to write an entry in your famed Book of Shadows."

Wyatt gulped. "There's one on the Wendigo."

"Is that right?"

The car slowed, turning onto a gravel surface.

Selene sighed. "We have arrived."

Wyatt frowned. "Where?"

"My Covenhouse, of course."

The car crawled to a halt in the shadows of a well-kept Georgian manor house. The door opened. After a moment's hesitation, Wyatt climbed out. He stood up straight and stretched imperceptibly looking up. The house felt wrong. It was a house of death. Two armored guards stood at the door. Selene joined him.

"Thank you, Mr. Kessler, that will be all for the day. Our guest has other means of returning to London."

The chauffeur bowed low, not moving a single facial muscle.

"He's a character," noted Wyatt.

Selene linked an arm with his. "Oh, he is unhappy. He feels, along with the master of my guards, bring you here represents a massive breach in security."

Wyatt looked down at their linked arms. Goosebumps ran up and down his skin. His knees felt weak. She had turned on the charm again. He tried forming mental barriers, but she had weaseled her way too deep already. He was reliant on her sensibilities for his protection. They walked quickly passed the guards and into the house.

The hall was lit and decorated spectacularly. It had all the trappings of a great English country house. Selene led him soundlessly down a corridor. They walked passed a library with a portly pale man sat, smoking a pipe. Another room appeared to be a ballroom. A couple dozen vampires lounged around on comfortable couches. Some fed on dazed and naked humans. Ultimately, they reached the end of the lengthy hallway. Selene rapped on the door, twice.

A man dressed in oddly fitted body armor yanked the door open with an expression of exasperation. The moment he saw Selene his face dropped.

"Oh, it's you. I thought it was those damn fledglings, again."

Selene pulled Wyatt passed the giant Maasai male vampire. "Excuse Elijah, Twice Blessed; he is not known for his manners."

The room smelled of smoke and fermentation. A blackened cauldron sat top a cold stove on the far side of the room. Shelves filled to capacity with jars lined the walls. The jars contained potion ingredients; some he recognized. Others turned his stomach. A few he did not ever want to know the specifics on.

"I was just harvesting demiguise eyes. Do you mind?" asked Elijah, not bothering to wait for a response. He returned to a table where the bloodied carcass of a creature lay. It was the cross between an albino orangutan and a yeti. Wyatt turned away as the male picked up a spoon-like instrument in his long-fingered hands.

Selene cleared her throat. "Actually, I do mind. We have business to discuss, and I have a feeling I will require your expertise." She turned to Wyatt. "Elijah, was once a very powerful witch before our sire turned him just prior to the Napoleonic Wars."

Elijah huffed and joined them. He crossed his lengthy arms over his armor covered chest. The man was the definition of lanky with oversized arms and legs and wiry muscle. "Be quick. Those eyes need to be pickled."

Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck. "What is a demiguise?"

"A magical primate of sub-human intelligence. They're able to render themselves invisible and have precognitive abilities," explained Elijah in exasperation. He gave Selene a glare.

Selene ignored him. "Twice Blessed, if you would."

Wyatt scratched his nose, gathering his thoughts. "We have a mutual foe in Lucifer."

"The enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend," argued Selene passively.

Elijah smirked. "Cute, sister."

"We can be allies," pressed Wyatt deliberately focusing on Selene. "My brother thinks he's found a path to Lucifer's destruction. Unfortunately, this path has led to an obstacle of sorts."

"What obstacle?" interrupted Elijah harshly.

Wyatt chewed his lip. "We need access to another dimension, the Land of the Fey."

Elijah packed up laughing. He clutched his sides and wiped away a tear. "You can't be serious! It's a myth! A fairytale."

"There are other planes of existence," argued Wyatt, his anger rising."

Elijah rolled his deep-set dark eyes. "Of course, there are. I'm not an idiot. My point is there is not one shred of credible proof the Land of the Fey exists."

Words failed him. Wyatt shook his head. Nails bit into his palm. "I've battled creatures from a plane not mentioned in any lore magical or not."

Selene shut down Elijah's counter with a terse warning in a sibilant tongue. She returned eyes to Wyatt, relaxing her shoulders. "Why has this dilemma led you to my door?"

"We need the blood of one of the First Vampires. Your sire is the last one alive."

Elijah's eyes flashed dangerously. He spoke quickly and loudly. "Out of the question! With that blood, they'd be able to make a vanquishing potion powerful enough to wipe us all out."

"You're very excitable," quipped Wyatt.

Elijah lashed out and launched himself at Wyatt. The crystal around his neck sprang to life, glowing brilliantly. Elijah slammed into the light and rebounded, crashing into the table with the dead demiguise. Selene raised her arm to shield her eyes from the flash. The skin on her forearm smoked.

"Come out, Anakin," she commanded, hissing.

The light dimmed. Anakin melted out of thin air. His eyes still glowed the same hue of the amethyst. The necklace around Wyatt's neck vanished. He glared down at the crumpled Elijah. "Try that again, and you'll see we don't need a potion to end your pathetic life." His voice resonated with barely repressed rage.

Selene snapped her fingers, gaining everyone's attention instantly. "You would be wise to not threaten my subjects, not least because you require my help."

Anakin's eyes returned to their more human colors. "Your assistance would be helpful, Selene, but no longer necessary. I'm inside your wards."

Wyatt groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "Annie," he bemoaned.

Anakin took a deep breath. The buzz of power lowered. "In this instance, perhaps, threats are unwarranted."

Selene's blue eyes dimmed. Her fangs shortened. "Not so smart, after all," she groused under her breath.

"The blood, Selene," snapped Anakin coldly.

"My sire rests this millennium."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Then he will be easy to milk."

Elijah crawled out of the mess of splitters, fur, and blood. He spat out a curse in Gaelic. "Ruined!"

Anakin snapped his fingers. A mason jar filled with a clear liquid appeared in his hand. Eight sets of eyeballs floated suspended in the liquid. "Demiguise eyes preserved in alcohol and humanely obtained."

"How do you humanely collect eyeballs?"

Anakin smiled. "They fall out after a demiguise has a premonition. Only the foolish and uneducated kill them."

"Oh," murmured Wyatt, feeling queasy.

Anakin tossed the jar over to Elijah. "Now, stop stalling. I know you keep blood from each of the First for your experiments, Elijah. I require no more than a drop or two."

Selene folded her arms. "For what purpose, exactly?"

"A potion to let me access dormant powers," explained Anakin.

Selene waited for Elijah. The male vampire frowned. "That's incredibly dangerous."

"No more than letting Lucifer continue his rampage of terror."

Selene nodded. "Fine, but I need reassurances."

Anakin held out a scroll. "Signed by Uriel and myself: binding accords of peace between you and yours and us and ours."

Selene took the scroll. It glowed with similar runes as the letter. Wyatt felt the hum of magic wash over the room.

"Elijah, give them what they require," commanded Selene.

Elijah begrudgingly turned his back on them. He exited the room through a side door, Wyatt had not noticed before. Once he returned, Wyatt found he could not locate the door. Elijah handed a small glass vial to Selene.

"This is foolish. You are risking Lucifer's wrath."

Selene nodded. "I have a feeling our fates, should they fail, will be the same even if we refused to help them."

She handed Anakin the vial. He held it up to inspect the contents. Satisfied, he bowed his head in gratitude and took Wyatt's hand.

"I hope we never meet again," he said as they disappeared in a chaotic swirl of blue orbs.

* * *

"A Gordian knot? Why can't we just use the triquetra? It's our family's symbol, the symbol of the Power of Three," debated Chris, across the table from Pyrrha. Both witches were a bit red in the face.

Pyrrha crossed her arms defensively. "Because this isn't Wiccan magic. We need a symbol that connects both Anakin's and Lucien's magic. Right?" She stared at Anakin expectantly.

"I don't think the symbology is going to matter. My access to the Archai powers isn't going to allow intricacy. This is going to be a tear in reality—it's going to leave a scar no matter how well designed the ritual. It's why we're doing it out in the middle of nowhere."

Wyatt tapped on one of the runes sketched in the center of one of the knot's four corners. "I recognize that rune."

"It's a simplified version of the defensive runes we used against Aeglaeca," explained Chris. "We're hoping it'll help contain the damage when we open the portal."

"Could it create a limbus—uh—you know whatever it was that happened with Zach?" inquired Serena from her seat. She sat feeding a fussy Parker in the corner of the dining room turned war room.

Anakin shook his head. "I doubt it. That is a reaction to messing with the fabric separating our world from the hereafter. It's a curse Uriel placed on that realm specifically. Still, opening portals to other planes is not without its dangers. The simplest mistake could result in a release of energy equivalent to a number of hydrogen bombs going off."

Serena closed her eyes and clutched Parker tightly to her. "And we're sure this is the only way."

Chris walked over to his wife and bent down. He took one of her hands in his. "Nothing is going to go wrong," he reassured her.

Anakin glanced at Pyrrha. "Full moon. I think that'll be best. You're right."

Pyrrha nodded, smiling in triumph. "I'll have everything ready."

"Explain why we're letting the kids join you," said Sarah in a quiet voice, her eyes bright in the dim light of the room, almost wolfish.

All the parents turned to Anakin. He flinched under their imperious stares.

"The Power of Three may be required. Kenny's demonic powers could prove useful and are difficult to replicate. I'd also like to leave a sizable defense to protect everyone here while we are away. My mom and aunts are equal to having myself and my siblings here. Leaving Zach, Matt, and Rick behind as the Power of Three—they lack the experience to make them a formidable presence." Anakin rubbed his hands together nervously. "This is the most equitable splitting of our resources."

"They're kids, not resources, Annie," warned Prue, sitting on Kyle's lap.

Anakin bowed his head. "I know. They're my family too. The mission could require the Power of Three. That is Mom and the Aunts or Zach, Matt, and Rick. If I could do this on my own, I would in a heartbeat."

"Not on your life," interrupted Wyatt. Chris's eyes lit up at the suggestion.

Anakin smiled weakly. "So, we choose the next safest alternative."

Sarah balled her hands into fists but remained silent. Slowly couples left, the meeting concluded, until only Anakin remained.

* * *

Snow still covered the wilderness of the Canadian Rockies, despite the impending start of summer. The high altitude meant the temperature still hovered near freezing. The group of weary witches trudges up the treacherous icy slopes in a single silent file. In the front, Anakin led, following an invisible trail to a yet unknown destination. Behind followed Zach, Kenny, Matt, and Richard; all humbled by the immensity of sudden responsibility. Chris and Pyrrha carried most of the ritual items next. Finally, Wyatt and Sarah took up the rearguard.

A creature howled in the distance, the eerie call echoed around them. The wind picked up, allowing the cold to cut through their thick layers of clothing. Snow drifted and swirled around their worn and slightly damp boots. The clear bright blue sky mocked them with the promise of warmer weather. The stark white valley below revealed no sign of life.

The trek up the mountain felt monotonous. The nearly frictionless ice required all their attention to guarantee sure footing. The sun climbed high above them, offering little heat and warmth. Still, they hiked onward, following their mute leader. Near dusk, they came to a plateau somehow free of snow.

"Here," said Anakin, panting.

The teens rubbed gloved hands across their red noses. Eyes still squinted against the fading glare of sunlight on snow. They made space for Chris and Pyrrha. Neither witch showed signs of discomfort despite the luggage strapped to their backs.

"We'll scout further up to make sure," reported Sarah, before transforming into a wolf.

Wyatt jogged to catch up to his wife with a reassuring smile to his son.

"Zach, start drawing the shield runes," instructed Anakin, indicating a large arc following the natural curvature of the barren rock.

Zach collected a notebook and a box of chalk from his uncle.

"Matt, Rick, help Chris and Pyrrha set up the ritual circle. Kenny, you're with me."

The teens separated. Kenny walked up to Anakin, unsure. The taller man grinned welcomingly, still out of breath.

"Maybe, I should join you on your morning runs," joked the older man.

Kenny nodded his head.

"Do you still have that ring of yours?" asked Anakin softly.

Kenny's hand jumped to his right pant's pocket. "Um…"

Anakin nodded with a knowing smirk. "Good. Just keep it in that pocket for the time being."

"Is it going to mess with all this?" asked Kenny, apologetic.

"Not sure. We're all playing a bit blind, to be honest. Go help Zach."

Kenny paused, fingering the ring in his pocket. "Do you know…" his voice faded away.

"The ring belonged to Tiamat. I never had the pleasure of meeting him or his sister, but I've made myself well acquainted with everything to do with the First Demons."

Kenny bit his lip. "It glows when I hold it."

Anakin's eyes softened. "The implication being you are related to either Tiamat or Rahab."

"Making me evil," whispered Kenny, looking down at his feet.

"The only thing that can make you evil is if you choose to be so, Kenneth. Now, go help Zach," said Anakin gently.

Kenny nodded and walked off. Pyrrha joined Anakin. "Problem?"

"Not sure yet," muttered Anakin. He shook his head. "Ready?"

Pyrrha nodded. "I think so. Are you sure salt was the best choice for a conduit?"

"Too late to change things now. Besides, the other option was iron filings."

Anakin followed Pyrrha to the center of the narrow outcropping. Drawn out in rock salt dyed a marine green was a Gordian knot. Inset at each corner were runes crafted from different substances to symbolize the four main elements: earth, air, water, and fire. In the center of the knot stood a small table carrying five black candles. A circle of bone dust enclosed the entire setup.

Chris stood up from bending over a small camping gas stove. He held out a vial filled with a gelatinous greasy gray potion. "This looks disgusting."

Anakin took the potion. "Thanks."

"Are you sure it's necessary? You've shown remarkable control over the elements already."

Anakin studied the potion, suppressing a shiver. "Yes, Tyler's Book describes a deeper connection than I feel. We don't have time for me to practice and grow my connection naturally."

"Still, a number of stimulants in that potion—it can easily kill you. It'd be healthier to inject speed directly into your brain."

Anakin smirked. "Good thing I've already died." He tossed his head back, holding the potion to his lips. It slowly slid out of the vial. He swallowed hard as it oozed down the back of his throat. Choking, he blinked away tears.

Pyrrha checked her watch. "Moonrise in five minutes."

Wyatt emerged from a swirl of orbs. "We don't have five minutes. Lucifer's on his way."

"What!" exclaimed Chris, eyes filled with dread.

Anakin's whole body shuddered, and he pulled a face of revulsion. The last of the potion dribbled down his throat. "That was way worse than that concoction you made for your twenty-first."

"That was alcoholic."

Anakin rolled his eyes.

"Lucifer's here."

Anakin nodded. "I heard. The wards will slow him down. Where's Sarah?"

"Tracking him," explained Wyatt.

Anakin raised his hand. Green flames lit the candles. "We've passed the point of no return."

Wyatt eyed Chris. A silent grim understanding passed between the brothers.

"We'll buy you time."

The two dissolved in a twister of blue and white.

"Stand back, Pyrrha," warned Anakin.

The redhead jumped back as white-hot flames erupted out of the circle. The table and candles were consumed. The salt turned to molten rock. The runes glowed with power. A shimmer covered surface inside the circle, almost a mirage. Anakin's head rolled forward. His whole body vibrated. Suddenly, an orange light bounced along an invisible dome covering the plateau. The teens hurried over to her.

"What going on?"

"Where's my dad and mom?"

"That supposed to happen?"

The mountain face above them exploded. Pyrrha threw her hands high above her. Debris orbed away. Zach and Matt joined her in protecting them from being crushed. A wolf yelped in distress.

"MOM!" whispered Zach, pained.

"It's Lucifer. He's here."

Zach and the others paled.

The shimmering above the circle grew brighter. The image of a lush green forest came into focus.

Bolts of lightning slammed into the ground around them. Chris appeared in the distance, redirecting the electrical storm at a bright humanoid shape, hovering further up the mountain. The angelic figure vanished. It reappeared behind Chris. A column of fire swallowed the brown-haired witch.

"NO!" screamed Matt.

He started forward, but Pyrrha caught him.

"LET ME GO!"

The image in the circle snapped into crystal clear certainty. Anakin jolted back.

"It's done."

The dome around the plateau shattered. Lucifer landed neatly in front of them.

"Impressive," he mocked.

Wyatt appeared seemingly out of nowhere and tackled Lucifer to the ground. "GO!" He yelled.

Anakin stepped forward. "Get out of the way!"

Wyatt dodged a punch and landed a kick of his own. "No! Go, we've got this."

Both Wyatt and Lucifer had swords. Metal clashed against metal.

Torn, Anakin froze.

Pyrrha jumped into action. She shoved Zach and Matt forward. Their feet crossed the illuminated edge of the circle, and they flickered away. Kenny and Richard soon followed. She stepped up to Anakin.

Wyatt fell to his knees. Lucifer loomed over him; sword held high. Excalibur lay out of reach.

"Go, Annie. We've got to find out how to stop him."

Pyrrha charged forward, throwing potion after potion at Lucifer. The evil Power That Be retreated a few steps, batting potions aside. Wyatt rolled, collecting Excalibur.

Anakin blinked. A tear ran down his cheek. He stepped over the edge, breaking the boundary as he did so. Something exploded. The world twisted into nothing.

* * *

AN: What did you think? I know I'm a bit evil, leaving you on a cliffhanger after the nearly two-month hiatus. I promise it will all pay off. This is only part one of a two-part chapter. The second part is on its way. Reviews always speed up the writing process.

Until the next chapter!


	16. Through My Darkest Of Dreams

AN: So this is a surprise. I'm actually updating! I hope you enjoy.

* * *

THROUGH MY DARKEST OF DREAMS

Kenny fell on his back, hard. Mud tempered the blow, but it still knocked all of the air out of his lungs. Gasping for air, he struggled to roll over, getting wrapped up in long black robes. Mud squelched through frozen fingers. A simple pale ring tightly encircled his right ring finger and burned cold. He frowned, perplexed; he never wore the ring. Clambering to his feet, he stumbled back into a large tree trunk. He glanced up to find his view of the entire sky obstructed by the thick and menacing canopy of an ancient forest. He spun around or tried to at least. Large brambles snagged his robes and sent him tumbling to the ground again.

Breathless, he groaned. Everywhere ached and throbbed. His soaking wet and muddy clothes left him shivering and extremely uncomfortable. Exhaustion settled into his bones. Even the thought of trying to stand again pained him. His lungs screamed for fresh air, but his body was too weak to comply.

Confusion muddled his thoughts. His recollection of recent events felt hazy as he tried to focus on them. He had been with friends. Something had happened to some of them, something terrible. The only thing he knew for certain was his friends were in grave danger, possibly dead. A woman with shockingly red hair had shoved him, saved him. The problem with that idea was there was nowhere for her to push him off. The terrain around him was relatively flat, yet he was positive he had been on a cliff.

The world stopped spinning as his brain fed on the little oxygen he inhaled. His limbs were heavy but no longer unbearably so. He slowly gathered his arms and legs under him and pushed himself up onto his bruised knees. It was darker than the trees should have made it. He guessed it was evening or at least approaching twilight. Using a trunk as support he pulled himself back up onto his feet.

Carefully his pocketed the cold ring, finding he was wearing gray slacks and a once white button down underneath the black robes. The robes had something embossed over his heart, but the mud obscured the image. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of the robes.

"FUCK!"

He hastily removed his right hand from the pocket, clutching onto a long, polished, pointed, and carved wooden stick. Eyes wide, he stared at the apparent wand.

"What the hell?"

He replaced the wand and shook his head. He had to find his friends; whoever they were. Brambles and thorns caught his robes, slowing his progress. Branches nicked his cheeks, drawing blood, but he paid them little attention. There were more important things to worry about. He only wished he could remember what they were.

Finally, he found an insignificant path of sorts and followed it. It meandered around the tall trees. The damp left the ground sleeker and slippier than he had anticipated. The slick mud sent him skidding disgracefully into the undergrowth more than once. The forest was alive with rustling and other sounds of small animals. There was no evidence of other humans.

The narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Starlight twinkled in its still smooth surface. In the distance, the reflected lights appeared warmer. Kenny looked up below the lake. A vast castle with many turrets and towers sat on the opposite shores. A short, unkempt wooden dock stood a few feet away. Tiny, rickety boats bobbed next to it, tied to its edge by thick ropes. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him.

"This can't be real," he murmured to himself.

A twig snapped behind him. He jumped, raising his hand in front of him, palm up. Nothing appeared in it. He blinked. His heart thumped harder and faster. A shadowy figure moved closer. Kenny tried to conjure a fire ball again with the same results. He did not have access to his powers. Material rubbed and tore against brambles.

"Who's there!" he called, trying his best to sound in control of the situation.

No one answered him. The dock creaked. Water splashed unhelpfully, keeping him from hearing anything else. A cloud passed over the moon, darkening the night. Kenny held his breath. In desperation to stave off the terror settling in, he pulled out the wand in his pocket. He held it aloft. The tip lit with a white light enlightening the clearing. He was alone. He breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly he scanned the stark beam across the undergrowth.

Abruptly, he found the light reflected back at him. He gasped and dropped the wand. The light died, plunging him and the clearing back into darkness.

"Shit!"

He bent down. Hurriedly he searched the muddy ground for the wand. Something rushed him. He fell back; the wind knocked out of him. His head gave an almighty pounding throb, bringing tears to his eyes. The something held him against the ground despite his best efforts.

"Accio his wand!" commanded a grave voice from the direction of the forest.

The warm light of a lamp suddenly illuminated the man standing on top of him. The man was barely a man. He could not be more than twenty with a touch of teenaged lankiness in his stance. He had messy black hair, which he appeared to have tried to tame with copious amounts of gel. The result was neither stylish nor professional. His pale face turned away from Kenny toward a figure standing to Kenny's right, but not before Kenny caught the glint of hazel in the man's eyes.

"Teddy, you got his wand yet?" asked the man, in a playful tone.

"It's Auror Lupin while we're on duty, trainee," reprimanded Lupin.

Kenny strained to see Lupin, but the movement drew the attention of the man atop him. The man pressed his boot harder into his chest. "Stop moving. I'll stupefy you if you don't."

Kenny tried to speak, but the weight of the man was keeping him from breathing.

Someone, Lupin, moved closer. "Lighten up on the restraints. We don't need him passing out on us. Your dad will have my head if I've got to take another suspect into St. Mungo's."

The weight lifted substantially. Kenny took a deep, coughing breath in and groaned. His headache was something terrible.

Lupin bent down next to him, pocketing a wand. He was smiling with mousy brown hair and a round face. His eyes were dark chocolate and lined. He looked exhausted.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The owner of the older voice stepped into Kenny's vision, holding the lantern. He had graying and thinning sandy blond hair. His face bore the marks and scars of a seasoned warrior. "Shouldn't you get him into proper restraints before you start interrogating him?"

"He's not going anywhere, Professor," said the brown-haired trainee, pressing down slightly.

Kenny winced. One of his ribs was definitely broken.

"Quit it, James. He's clearly in bad shape. Step off. We've got his wand. He's not going anywhere."

James reluctantly removed his boot from Kenny's chest. He kept his want pointed squarely at him. "Well? We asked you a question."

Kenny slowly sat up. "It's—it's Kenny."

Lupin frowned and glanced back at the older man. "Kenny?"

Kenny nodded, breathing through gritted teeth. "Kenny Parker."

Lupin stood back up. "Parker? That's not a name I recognize."

The professor nodded along. "His accent is American, maybe he went to Ilvermony."

"They're recruiting from abroad? That's not right. We'd have heard something about that."

James cleared his throat. "There was that group from Russia last week. They nearly flattened that muggle village."

Lupin shook his head. "Those charges haven't be proven, James."

"That's because the Wizengamot can't get off their collective fat arses!"

"Enough!" commanded Lupin. His hair briefly gained highlights of red. He turned back to Kenny, his face more austere than before. "Where are you from?"

"Um—California?"

James rolled his eyes. "So convincing," he scoffed. "What are you doing?"

Kenny closed his eyes against a powerful twinge of pain. It felt like someone was drilling a hole right between his eyes.

"He's concussed," declared the Professor.

Lupin crossed his arms into the folds of his stylish battle robes. They rippled to vaguely match the background. "Why'd you have to hit him so hard?"

James pulled a face. "It wasn't any harder than when you took me down the other day. I was just following your training."

"How you passed the personality tests with that attitude…" Lupin trailed off. "Professor Longbottom, do you think the Headmistress will be willing to let him enter the castle?"

"Not without knowing his intentions. She's responsible for all the students."

Lupin visibly sagged. "We can't apparate him to St. Mungo's. The closest floo-connected fireplace is on the other side of the village."

"We can take him to the Hog's Head. It's close enough," suggested James.

"And then what? We're still stuck with an injured prisoner."

"Hannah can come down and take a look at him. If he's not too bad, maybe you can apparate to London."

Teddy smiled and sighed with relief. "That'll be great, Professor."

Neville nodded. "I'll be right back. We'll meet you at the Hog's Head. The passageway will be the quickest way back to the village."

Kenny watched the man hand the lantern over to James roughly. He conjured a white ball of light and dashed off into the forest following a different path, closer to the lake. Teddy eyed James.

"You lead the way. I'll help Kenny."

James opened his mouth.

Teddy cut off any argument. "I'm perfectly capable of handling one wandless prisoner. After all, I am the fully trained Auror."

James started off in the opposite direction of the castle. Teddy stepped up next to Kenny and offered a hand. Kenny accepted the help and struggled to his feet. He felt lightheaded and faint for a moment. The pounding in his head increased.

"You ok?"

Kenny nodded, grinding his molars together. He had to play along. He needed to find his friends. His last memories were still hazy. He needed to play for time.

The trek to the Hog's Head went quickly. Despite his aches and pains, Kenny found the more he walked the better he felt. He tried a few times to use magic surreptitiously with no visible results of success. The village streets were empty. The clouds had passed on by leaving the night well lit by a full moon. It was still the same night as whatever happened. The dusty and neglected pub had two patrons inside. The barkeep gave the group a hard look as they entered.

"Evening, Aberforth," greeted Teddy cheerily.

The barkeep grunted.

"We're meeting Neville and Hannah. They're using the Come-And-Go Room," said Teddy, taking a seat at the bar. Kenny took the seat next to him. James boxed him in and extinguished the lantern.

Aberforth glanced at the two other patrons. "I close early on Tuesdays."

"They will be along shortly. Three butterbeers while we wait."

Aberforth plopped three dirty mugs in front of them along with three grimly bottles of butterbeers. He left them alone.

James grabbed one of the bottles and popped the lid off with a flick of his wand. He took a swig. "So Kenny from America—what were you doing sneaking around the Forbidden Forest?"

Teddy groaned. "Softer, James. We don't need to attract more attention."

"The alarms went off. The whole village knows someone is here who doesn't belong."

Kenny frowned.

James smirked. "Weren't expecting us to be prepared for an attack on the school?"

"I wasn't attacking," snapped Kenny.

James jabbed him in the ribs with his wand. Red sparks flew out of its end. "Watch the tone. You're talking to two of the Ministry of Magic's Aurors."

Kenny hissed back his yelp of pain. "I wasn't attacking the school."

Teddy handed him his butterbeer. "What were you doing in the forest? It's not a huge tourist attraction especially at night."

Kenny hesitated for a moment. He considered lying, but he knew nothing about the current events in this part of the world. He knew he would be caught out in moments, and he did not have the time to waste. He settled on telling the truth. "I don't know."

James spat out his mouthful of butterbeer. Teddy's quick reactions saved Kenny from being covered in the sticky brown liquid. "Erumpent's Excrement!'

"Watch the language, James. We're on duty," admonished Teddy half-heartedly.

James ignored him. "You don't know? You don't know! What a load of doxy droppings!"

Kenny faced Teddy. He put on his most earnest voice. "I promise. I have no idea how I landed up outside Hogwarts."

"You know about Hogwarts!"

"Of course, I do. It is one of the eleven most famous schools for witches and wizards. Who hasn't heard about Hogwarts? If you're magical, you know about Hogwarts, even if you aren't magical." Kenny pushed his butterbeer away.

"If you're from America, then did you go to Ilvermony?" asked Teddy, quieting James with a glare.

Kenny shook his head. "No."

Teddy's brow furrowed. "No? I thought it was mandatory for witch and wizards in America to attend."

Kenny shrugged. "Maybe, I wouldn't know."

"You don't know!"

Teddy slammed his mug onto the bar. "JAMES!" His hair turned flaming red and curly.

James shrunk back and mimed zipping his lips.

Teddy took a deep breath. His hair darkened but remained curly. "What do you mean?"

Kenny chewed on his lip. "I'm magical but I'm not a wizard."

Teddy pulled out his wand and laid it on the bar top, out of Kenny's reach. "You have a wand. You did magic with it."

Kenny stared at the wand. He still had no idea where it came from. "It's not mine. I've no idea how I made it light up."

"We're not talking about the lumos spell," said James unable to help himself.

"What do you mean? That's the only time I've ever used a wand."

Teddy replaced the wand in his pocket. "Before we found you, we found the body of a student. She had been killed by the Killing Curse. You were the only other person in the forest."

Kenny paled. "Not possible. There must have been someone else."

"We know how to do our jobs," hissed James.

Teddy drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "James, go find out if Neville and Hannah have arrived. Aberforth likes you more than me."

James glared at Kenny but did as he was told.

"You will have to excuse him. He knew the student. She was a first year during his last year at Hogwarts. She's the first person he knew personally to have been murdered."

Kenny nodded but kept silent.

"We'll get you healed up. Then we can go back to the Ministry and get all of this sorted."

The plan felt wrong. Bad things would happen if he left the vicinity of the school. He needed to find his friends. He was certain his friends were somewhere nearby. If they were alive, he would find them here by the castle and village, maybe even in the forest.

"Are you sure there was no one else in the forest?" he asked tentatively careful to not meet his captor's eyes.

Teddy did not immediately answer. Kenny felt the auror's eyes on him, studying him. "We're quite sure. Were, um, were you not alone?"

Kenny held his breath for a beat. "I can't remember. I've just got this feeling, like a word on the tip of your tongue—my friends were with me. Not here—we were somewhere else. Then something happened, something bad. I woke up in the middle of the forest, alone."

A tall woman with long blonde disheveled hair approached them, ending the quiet conversation. She clearly had gotten dressed in a hurry; her cloak was on inside out. Her smile felt strained. There were concern and fear behind her plain brown eyes.

"Evening, Teddy," she greeted warmly enough.

Teddy smiled. "Hello, Hannah. How's Victore doing?"

"She's increased the number of injuries self-reported by the boy. It's giving her a lot of practice. Madam Pomfrey and I will be sad to see her go at the end of the month."

Neville and James joined them. Aberforth peered at them with his bright blue eyes. He frowned deeply and turned away. Hannah pulled out her wand and tapped it on Kenny's temple.

"How are you feeling?"

Kenny squinted as Hannah's wand tip flashed different colors as she waved it over different body parts. "Um, ok..."

Hannah arched a pale eyebrow. "Two broken ribs, a concussion, and a sprained ankle. I can see to the sprained ankle, and a diluted Skele-Gro potion will mend the ribs. The concussion has to be waited out. I wouldn't risk apparating him across the village."

Teddy cursed under his breath. "James, you'll need to return to the Ministry. Inform your dad. I'll see if Aberforth can set us up for the night."

Hannah paused in her ministrations. "Do you mind if I…"

Kenny shrugged. "It's fine."

"This will sting." She warned.

She jabbed and twisted her wand. Kenny yelped in pain. His ankle throbbed once and heated up. Steam wafted up from the insides of his shoes. The acrid smell of burning hair invaded his nostrils. He sneezed and shook his head before instantly regretting it. His head did not like moving that fast.

"I'll send the Skele-Gro down via house elf." She said looking at Teddy. "I'd not walk too far on that ankle. It'll be tender for a few more hours."

"Thank you," said Kenny genuinely.

Teddy stood up and shook Hannah's hand. "Could a concussion mess with his memory?"

Hannah shrugged. "It's possible. It depends on how he got the injury. Why?"

Teddy shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Thanks. Tell Victore I say hi."

Hannah bowed her head and head back to the dark stairs toward the back of the bar. Neville followed her. He paused to talk to Aberforth for a moment. The bar owner did not look pleased with the contents of the exchange.

James walked around to the other side of Teddy. "We could send word to my dad via Patronus. I've been practicing."

Teddy shook his head. "No, we can't risk word getting out. Your dad will know what to do."

"If he's still sober," muttered James. "Fine, I'll go, but I'm taking his wand. We can start collecting evidence."

Teddy relented and handed over Kenny's wand. Kenny felt a sharp pain of loss as James apparated away.

Aberforth stomped over to them. "No apparating indoors."

"Sorry, Aberforth. James wasn't thinking," said Teddy placating.

Grunting Aberforth gestured with his thumb to the back of the pub. "There's a couch in the back. I expect you and him to be gone by opening time tomorrow. I'm not running an inn."

Teddy grinned. "Thank you, Aberforth. This is a great help. Come on, Kenny."

Once they were out of the public section of the pub Teddy's hair instantly took on the shade of bright blue. It shortened and became spiky. His hazel eyes changed to an even darker hue of brown. He waved his wand and the battle robes transformed into a pair of dark pants and a white t-shirt.

"Merlin, I hate being in uniform. I've petitioned the Ministry constantly to lighten up on the rules. Being so clean cut makes me stick out like a sore thumb. Let's get you out of those robes. Aberforth will not be pleased if we track mud everywhere."

He pointed his wand at Kenny. Kenny held out his arms in shock as the fabric of his black robes transformed into a knitted gray sweater with a purple ouroboros emblazoned across his chest. Both he and Teddy frowned.

"Weird. I was going for a dragon. Never mind, transfiguration was never my forte. I had to cheat on my N.E.W.T.s Thank Merlin's knickers that I'm a Metamorphmagus. Any idea what that is supposed to be?" Teddy said conversationally.

Kenny traced the symbol, feeling the weight of his ring in his pocket. "It's an ouroboros."

"Oh, right! I knew I recognized it from somewhere. We covered Nordic symbology in Ancient Runes sixth year."

Teddy made himself comfortable on the loveseat closet to the unlit fireplace. Kenny noted despite the man's causal nature and friendliness he still had his wand in his hand.

A small crack announced the arrival of a house elf. She was a tiny creature with a crooked nose and too large eyes. She lacked any form of hair.

"Mistress Hannah is sending Misty to deliver this to Master Teddy," she said in a creaky voice.

Teddy smiled. "Thank you, Misty. You can set it on the table."

"Mistress Hannah is telling Misty to be telling you that the potion spoils."

"Quite right. Kenny will take it in a moment. We're just finishing up a conversation. I had to take Skele-Gro in my third year because of a dueling accident. It is quite possibly the most unpleasant experience of my life, and I splinched myself twice trying to get my Apparition License."

Misty bowed so low her nose touched the ground. She vanished with a pop.

Kenny looked at the spitting potion in a small elegant glass. He had no desire to drink the potion. He remembered reading about its effects.

"So you think your friends were in the forest with you?"

Kenny sat down on the couch. His ankle was smarting. "I'm not sure. I know we were together. There were, um, eight of us, I think. No, yeah, eight. Then something happened. Three of them went off to do something—God, why can't I remember?"

Teddy motioned for him to settle. "Don't hurt yourself. Just think it through. Walk me through what you do remember?"

Kenny closed his eyes. The setting sun flashed in his mind's eye. A dome of magic shattered. A shimmering circle materialized. Someone pushed him. He fell.

"We were under attack. The person was powerful, too powerful. He—he…" Kenny fell silent.

The scream echoed in his head, his friend's heart-wrenching scream. Tears filled his eyes. He blinked and rubbed them with the back of his forearm.

"It all went wrong. They weren't prepared. He killed one maybe more. It was confusing. Then someone pushed me. I fell an—and—and landed up in the forest."

Teddy sat forward. "Who was attacking you?"

Kenny gripped his hair. "I can't—it's not coming. I want to tell you. I do. It's just a blur. I've got these feelings of what happened but not anything else."

Sitting back again, Teddy pondered the new information. "You said you didn't attend Ilvermony. There are other smaller schools. Salem's Academy?"

"No, no. I told you! I'm not a wizard. I've got no fucking clue how to use a wand. I'm an elemental."

"An elemental?" asked Teddy, shocked.

Kenny took a calming breath. He had to keep a handle on the situation. "Yes, I can control the elements."

Teddy tapped his finger on his wand absentmindedly. "Show me."

"I can't. Ever since I woke up. I tried."

"You tried?"

Kenny licked his parched lips and hugged his sore chest. "I know. I sound crazy. You must have heard of Wiccan magic."

Teddy smirked. "Wicca is a muggle religion. I've never heard it being actually magical. There are some witches and wizards in South America and Africa who don't use wands, but they're very limited in what they can do. It's mainly potions and using magical beasts. I've never heard of an elemental."

Kenny's breath caught in his throat. It was not possible. They had contacted the Ministry of Magic. They must know about Wicca. He needed to remember the name of his friends or where he had been. It had not been America.

Teddy stood up and collected the potion. "Take this and rest, just don't sleep."

Kenny took the potion, cringed, and downed it in one gulp. The pain in his chest radiated out. He screamed and blacked out.

* * *

When he woke there was a man with glasses nearly nose-to-nose with him. He yelped in fright. The man sat back in shock.

"It's ok. It's ok," repeated the man calmly.

Teddy leaned over the man's shoulder. "Gave me quite a fright, Kenny."

The man's emerald eyes immediately identified him to Kenny. He was in the presence of the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement for the British Ministry of Magic, Harry James Potter.

"What happened?" croaked Kenny.

Harry waved his wand and a cup of water appeared out of thin air. "Here, drink." He helped Kenny sit up and offered him the cup.

"It appears you had a nasty reaction to the Skele-Gro potion. Instead of mending your ribs, it started to remove all of them, which would have been disastrous. Luckily, I know the counter charm," explained Harry.

Kenny lowered the cup. "Thanks."

Harry smiled. "You are welcome. Now, my son has told me of what he knows of tonight's events. We have reviewed the spells cast by your wand. Now, I am told that there are ways to delete a wand's spell memories, but I have never heard of it being performed and the wand surviving. There was no evidence that this wand, your wand, cast the Killing Curse. In fact, the only spell it has cast is a very weak version of the Lumos Charm."

"He said he wasn't a wizard," said Teddy.

Harry nodded his head sagely. "Yes, but it still remains that you were found in the forest very near to where the student was killed. We need to explain the events of tonight to the Wizengamot's satisfaction."

Teddy ran his fingers through somber black hair. His eyes mirrored those of his godfather. "He said he was an elemental."

Harry eyed Kenny sharply. "An elemental?"

"They can control the elements," clarified Teddy.

"Perhaps—no, it can wait. For the moment, the fact that his wand did not cast the Killing Curse is our first priority. We can't have a murderer wandering around Hogwarts, not that it'll be the first time. Still, parents will start to fret when word gets out." Harry stood up and stretched. "Teddy, stay with Kenny. I'm going to help with the search of the forest."

Teddy nodded, downcast. Harry paused as he brushed past his godson. He gave the younger man's shoulder a squeeze. "Well done."

Kenny crossed his legs awkwardly beneath him on the couch. He waited until he heard the front door close. "That doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?" asked Teddy.

"Um, you were sure I was the only one out in the forest. Who could've killed the student?"

"That's what Harry's going to figure out." Teddy twirled a wand between his fingers. "With you cleared of the murder, I guess you can have this back. You weren't on school grounds, so we can't even hold you for trespassing."

Kenny took the wand and waved it. Nothing happened. "Where'd you come from?"

"Be thankful you had it. It's the only proof you have that your story's true. No wizard your age has only cast one spell in his life. Clearly, you're something else."

Kenny settled back into the couch. Teddy poured himself a drink and sunk into the loveseat. The flames on the torches dimmed. The quiet slowly lulled Kenny into a dreamless sleep.

Kenny woke to someone slamming a door. He started, confused. As the scene around him came into focus, the memories of the previous night resurfaced. A light woven blanket was draped over him. He sat up slowly and found his head no longer banged along to his heartbeat. Someone snored. He turned around and smirked. Teddy had fallen asleep in the loveseat; spit dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. A disheveled Harry Potter entered the room followed by a red-faced Aberforth.

"Out! Out! I want them gone! All of you, Potter!"

Harry waved Aberforth off. "You spend too much time talking to Snape's portrait, Aberforth. We…"

"This is not a satellite office for your Aurors! This is my home!"

Harry spotted Kenny and smiled. "Good Morning, Kenny."

Aberforth crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'll never understand how my brother put up with you."

"It helps to have a modicum of patience. Now, Aberforth, I need the room. Then I promise, we will get out of your hair."

Grumbling, the cranky old wizard shuffled out of the room. Teddy groaned and rolled over. Unfortunately, there was not enough couch to accommodate the action. He collapsed onto the floor, tangled in robes and a blanket.

"Morning, boss," he choked out, still fighting with the fabrics.

"Good morning, Teddy."

"Anything happen?"

Harry shook his head. "No, we scoured the forest with little luck. Whoever killed that poor girl…"

Kenny rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "There wasn't anything?"

"Nothing that I can detect. The report did come back on the girl's autopsy. It seems she was not killed by the Killing Curse, but rather by a devious and little-known poison." Harry kept his eyes on Kenny. "Have you heard of the Rahab berry?"

Recognition rang out as clear as a bell. Kenny's eyes widened. His hand instantly reached for the ring in his pant's pocket.

"Rahab berry?" asked Teddy.

Harry stayed focused on Kenny but answered him. "It's a purple berry that grows on these thick vines. They look like dragon scales and always grow in circles. They go by another name—ouroboros."

Teddy gasped.

Kenny felt more vulnerable than at any point the previous night. Both men looked at him with true suspicion. He had no way of proving his innocence. At the same time, the name had triggered something in his mind. Memories began to crystallize. He knew who his friends were. He knew what they were doing. He knew this was all wrong.

"Now, I have noticed your cardigan has another representation of the ouroboros."

Kenny's eyes shot to his wand, lying on a side table. He would never reach it in time. Not that he knew what to do with it if he had it. The ring froze against his skin. He yelped.

Harry and Teddy fired red stunners at him. He plunged his hand into his pocket and wrapped his hand tightly around the ring. Power washed over him. The figures of Harry and Teddy melted. The world turned pink then faded to white. The whole time Kenny thought only one thing: the power he touched was truly evil.

* * *

Zach woke up surrounded by white and soft. Gradually, he recognized the shapes as pillows. He felt pearls of perspiration roll down his brow and into his hair. He heart thumped loudly in his ears drowning out the deafening silence of the room. He gasped for breath. A tear trickled out of the corner of his eye. He wiped it away, steadying his breathing. The familiar scent of rain-swept meadows soothed his racing mind. It had all been a terrible dream, a nightmare.

"Daddy!" yelled a tiny voice a moment before something hard and round collided with his midriff.

"Oof."

A little boy with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes popped his head out from the cloud of the duvet. A grin spread across his small round little face. The child had obviously dressed himself; the brightly colored t-shirt was on inside out. Not losing a moment, the child clambered through the sea of bedding until he was nose to nose with Zach.

"Daddy! Wakey, wakey! Mommy says it's beckfast time."

Zach pretended to yawn as he continued to study the child in stunned silence. His brain was having trouble processing the information. The kid thought he was his father. There was a mother in the picture. There was no way he would ever buy such ridiculous poofy bedding.

"Come on, Daddy!" said the boy excitedly. "Hurry up! We want to open pesents. Mommy told me and Pippy we had to wait for youuuuuu." The small boy pulled on Zach's hand while sitting on his chest.

Zach smiled. He remembered doing something similar to his own father on one of his birthdays. Then the realization hit him. His eyes widened. There was a sister.

"Uh—kiddo? Pippy…"

The boy kneeled on his chest. "Yes! Pippy! Mommy said 'Nidas is coming over too!"

"Nidas?"

The boy frowned. "Yes! My hob-bother."

Zach struggled for a moment with the pronunciation. "Half-brother."

"Uh-huh. Come on."

Zach nodded. "Ok, ok, kiddo. Just give me a moment. Go tell your mom I'll be up in a sec."

"A sec. Ok!" The boy bound out of the room, nearly falling off the bed in his rush.

Zach flopped back onto the pillows, sinking in, and closed his eyes. He dug the heels of his palms into them, thinking, trying to remember. The boy had his eyes. He had a son. He had a daughter! He shook his head. The memories remained elusive. If he had children, he should remember them. He should remember who their mother was. He should remember getting married. He opened his eyes and checked. There was a silver wedding band with a Celtic knot on his finger.

The sugary smell of pancakes and warmed maple syrup wafted through the open bedroom door. He swung his leg over the edge of the bed and found a pair of gray slippers lying next to the cluttered bedside table. He slipped the slippers on and scrounged up a white undershirt. He laughed when he realized he wore Star Wars pajama bottoms.

The bedroom offered no obvious clues to filling in the voids in his memory. No family pictures hung on the walls. It felt too creepy to go poking about in the dresser. The laundry basket was empty. Although, he doubted seeing what type of underwear his wife wore would suddenly bring forth her name. There was also no evidence for the reason of his amnesia.

He tried to recall his last memory. He had been arguing with his dad and mom about something. He had been a teenager. It felt like the previous day. Obviously, it could not have been. There was something very wrong. The dream returned in bursts. The feeling of loss overwhelmed him. He caught himself against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Something went very wrong.

He reached the sunlit kitchen. The boy was sitting at the table with a blue plastic sippy cup clutched firmly in his right fist. He left hand was holding a plastic fork. He was trying valiantly to pick up a very large pancake. Next to him sat a little girl the same age. She had the same curly brown hair, but her eyes were a very familiar brown. She was watching her brother struggle and trying but failing to stifle her giggles.

"Now, Piper, I've told you to stop making fun of your brother. He's being a big help to Mommy," admonished a woman from deeper in the kitchen.

The little girl continued to giggle, earning her a glare from her brother. Zach watched the scene unfold before him for a moment longer. Heart pumping hard, he stepped into the kitchen. The little girl sprang from her seat and rushed up to him. He caught her before she collided with his leg and lifted her up above his head. She roared with laughter as he spun her around. He lowered her until she rested comfortably on his hip.

"Morning," greeted Rebecca with a radiant smile.

No thought went into his movement. He glided next to her by the stove and kissed her, hugging her close. He sighed in relief as they lingered on the kiss.

"Eww!" mocked both Piper and her brother in unison.

He grinned and let Piper slide down to the floor. She ran off to rejoin her brother at the kitchen table. "Morning, beautiful."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "I've not even had time to shower yet."

"Doesn't matter. You're always the most beautiful woman in the room."

Even as he said the words Zach knew while true they were not something he usually verbalized. The brief frown on Rebecca's face affirmed his feelings. She studied him for a moment longer before returning her attention to the fresh batch of pancakes.

"Mind helping Josiah and Piper getting their breakfasts?"

"Of course not."

Zach wondered over to the small round kitchen table. It was big enough to squeeze five people around it if two of those were little kids. There was space for a bigger table. A wave of trepidation lapped at the corners of his consciousness. He shook off the sensation and placed three pancakes on a plate.

"Syrup?" he asked.

Piper nodded eagerly. "Lots and lots!"

Rebecca spoke up. "Now, sweetie, let's not be greedy. Remember, you're having ice cream cake later."

Piper pouted and crossed her arms. "Mommy!"

Zach added an extra swirl of syrup and laid the plate in front of the little girl with a conspiratorial wink. She giggled and grabbed her own plastic fork in her tiny hand. Zach quickly spotted a problem; he had forgotten to cut up the pancake.

"Wait a…" his voice died in his throat.

Piper stabbed a pancake and pulled it toward her. The plate moved with the pancake and wobbled on the edge of the table for a dreadful moment. Syrup, melted butter, and pancake soon covered the little girl and dripped steadily to the floor.

"Oh!" exclaimed Rebecca.

Josiah, who had given up on using utensils and was eating a pancake by hand, stared at his sister in shock and glee. For once he was not the one in trouble.

Zach jumped up. He quickly picked up the plate and deposited the squashed pieces of sticky pancake upon it. He orbed a roll of paper towels onto the table. Carefully he set about wiping up the worst of the sugary mess from Piper's face.

"Um, Zach!"

The coldness in Rebecca's voice stilled him instantly. He looked into the eyes of the girl before him and saw confusion and fear.

"How you do dat?" asked Josiah.

They did not know about magic. It was impossible for them to not know about magic. He would never hide it from his family. His kids would be witches. He closed his eyes and sensed for the twins. He found them easily enough but what he felt shook him to his core. They were no longer witches. He sensed the open gaping hole where their powers had been.

"We stripped their powers?" he asked.

Rebecca took charge of the situation. "Josiah, Piper, go upstairs and wash up."

"Moooom!"

"Mommy!"

Rebecca folded her arms across her chest. "Now!"

Clearly, both sister and brother knew the tone well enough to not question it. They rushed out of the room. Zach slowly stood up and faced his wife. The word felt wrong, hollow.

"We stripped their powers," he repeated.

Rebecca nodded. "Of course, we did! What is wrong with you?"

Zach closed his eyes again, processing. "Not bound—stripped."

"How could we not? After what happened?"

His eyes snapped open. Dread wrapped its tendrils around his thundering heart. "What happened?"

Rebecca took a step back. "What do you mean? No one could forget…what's wrong?"

He saw the concern and fear etched on her face. She wanted to get as far away from him as possible. He could not understand. Something was terribly wrong. Nothing could have caused him to strip his children of their heritage. He might hate magic and his family's destiny some days, but it was an integral part of him, part of every Halliwell.

"Becks…"

She shivered and shrank further away from him. "Don't! You—something's wrong with you."

Zach licked his lips. "I—what happened?"

"The purge!"

He did not like the sound of that. "Purge—Lucifer won?"

Rebecca's eyes bulged. "Lucifer? He—Jesus!"

Zach cringed. "Becks, please."

"It happened your senior year of high school. Your whole family was caught up in it. After—you changed your name, said you burned the Book…the last time I saw you use was the night the twins were born."

Zach's confusion deepened. "And Lucifer?"

"Lucifer? You mean that demon your uncle died to vanquish when you were one?"

It was impossible. He remembered Lucifer's return. He had vivid memories of being Lucifer's captive. Also, Lucifer was so much more than a mere demon. Rebecca knew Anakin. They were not exactly friends, but there was limited space in the compound. He had changed his name. His family was involved, past tense.

Rebecca's immediate reaction of fear melted away to be replaced with concern. "You don't remember?"

Zach shook his head.

"How? You haven't been messing with that stuff again!" accused Rebecca.

Frowning, Zach thought back to his last solid memory. He had been talking to Matthew. They had been discussing a mission. His head throbbed. His grasp on the recollection slipped. The mission…it was…he shook his head. The doorbell rang.

Rebecca groaned. "Stay here."

She slipped passed him. He followed her footsteps down the narrow passage. The front door opened. Another woman spoke. Zach could not make out words; a small part of him wanted to see who was at the door. Rebecca's pronouncement bounced around in his mind. A purge…a purge against magic…it happened in his senior year. He sunk into a chair. His hand shook violently.

Rebecca returned with a boy with pitch-black hair and round blue eyes in tow.

"Hi, dad," greeted the boy in a very deep voice.

Zach jerked his head up. He cleared his throat. "Hi, kiddo. How are you?"

Rebecca cut the conversation off. "Leonidas, Piper and Josiah are upstairs. They've been dying for you to get here. Why not say hi? You can tell them they can open their presents."

Leonidas's smile slipped. "Sure, Auntie Becks."

Rebecca stepped out of the kitchen far enough to watch him climb the stairs.

"Becks," started Zach immediately.

"SHH!" commanded Rebecca imperiously.

A door opened and closed. She relaxed slightly.

Zach tried again. "Becks, I…"

"Have you been using?" interrogated Rebecca, eyes flashing.

Zach's words caught in his throat. He had no idea how to even start answering the question. He had done magic. He had used his powers only minutes previous, but he had been a teenager then. They had all been teenagers. There had been no purge. They did not have children. He was grounded.

Rebecca closed her eyes and breathed out heavily. "Zachary, you promised me. You promised never to use again. I believed you." Tears started to fill her eyes.

Zach jumped up. He wanted to comfort her. He could not stand seeing her cry. The moment he moved, she leaped backward away from him. He froze in place.

"Ok, ok. I won't hurt you. I've got to know that," he implored.

She recovered. "I don't know what to believe. You're using magic."

Zach felt an abrupt pain in his chest. He rubbed the area over his heart eking out seconds to come up with an excuse or adequate response. Something told him the simple truth would not rectify the situation. The gnawing pain intensified even as he recognized the similarity. It was the same pain he felt from the cursed wound he received from Vrykolakas. The pain was from something or someone trying to mess with his magical core.

"I'm not using magic," he wheezed out. The pain doubled making it incredibly difficult to talk in a normal voice. He gritted his teeth against screaming.

Footsteps grew louder. Rebecca spun around and froze. Leonidas stepped into view.

"You need to remember."

Zach felt like something was ripping its way out of his chest. He dropped to one knee. He looked up at Leonidas; one of his eyes was missing.

"Zach!" the voice calling out from the boy's mouth was not his own.

The room around them twisted and contorted unnaturally. The kitchen took on the distorted amalgamation of a Dali painting. Rebecca vanished. Leonidas gained a slash across the face. Blood soaked through his shirt. Zach screamed.

"Remember," whispered the voice through the boy.

Bones snapped. The house rumbled ominously. Piper and Josiah appeared next to their older brother. The twins wore identical looks of terror. They had their mouths open in a silent unending scream. Zach tried to stand, to comfort, to speak. His world shrank to nothing but the pain in his chest.

"NO!" yelled a voice in absolute authority. It resonated through his being.

The house vanished. Piper and Josiah melted away. Leonidas's bruised and battered form boiled. The dark hair replaced by short golden blond. The one remaining eye remained the same but somehow was completely different. The tanned skin paled. His broken limbs elongated. His boyish blood-soaked clothes transformed into jeans and an out-of-style shirt.

A brilliantly white light surrounded them, yet it was a haunting light. There was no comfort. Other voices, familiar voices, were yelling and screaming. Zach felt the light reach inside him again. It was trying to rip out his magic. A flash of light attacked the man who had been his son.

"Remember," coughed the man.

Their eyes met. Neurons fired. He knew who the man was. He remembered the mission. The light dimmed and took form. Beautiful and terrible to behold, Lucifer towered over him. A sword wreathed in flames, which sucked light and color out of the air, pierced his chest. Something, no, someone was hindering Lucifer from pressing more than the tip into flesh.

Zach looked at the man, only the man was not curled in a ball on the floor. He had his hands wrapped around Lucifer's neck. Anakin was wrestling with the bestial Lucifer and losing. Zach could see the damage. His uncle's skin was turning into brittle ash. His one eye was gouged out. A dagger lay at Lucifer's feet with the eye still skewered on it. Powerful white-feathered wings battered at him, breaking bones. Still, Anakin hung on.

Zach knew the only way out. He understood what he had to do, and it terrified him.

"Do it," hissed Anakin.

Zach swallowed. He focused on an image of something small, tiny. The blade dug another inch into his chest. He wanted to scream. Hot, sticky blood oozed out from and around the wound. Breathing became almost impossible. Each breath was a terrible fight.

Small, tiny, and long.

The pain in his chest dimmed. A new agony took its place. Again, the gut-wrenching, heart-stopping feeling was not new. He knew the feeling, even if the last time he felt it he had been removed from it. Bones crumbled. Organs collapsed. Skin tightened and thickened.

The pressure from the blade vanished. Zach rolled to one side. Out of the sword's path. He focused with all his might on the creature from his worst nightmares. Yellow patchy fur. Beady black, soulless eyes. Too long, gangly limbs. Physical strength. Magic endurance.

He heard a roar and realized it issued from his elongated mouth. Sharp canine teeth snapped together menacingly. He spun around to face Lucifer.

"Beautiful," breathed the evil Power.

Massive wings no longer framed the dark angel. His stature returned to the slightly shorter than average frame he fancied. His eyes remained strangely and unnervingly human, but with a color Zach could not place. He wore his business casual attire and was grinning.

"I'd wipe that smirk off your face," wheezed Anakin.

Anakin was a mess. Not an inch of skin was left uninjured. His remaining eye was swollen shut. His lips were charred along with what was left of his right arm. Despite the injuries, he still exuded a calming but deadly power. He walked sluggishly but did not stumble. He placed himself in front of Zach.

Lucifer's smile only broadened. "You're hardly worth the expenditure of energy. Go! Crawl back to your master."

Zach let out a threatening growl. He opened his mouth to speak. The voice, his voice, sounded like dying animals. Both Lucifer and Anakin winced.

"It comes from the mind, my apprentice. You must speak from your mind."

Zach punched the ground. "I'M NOT YOUR APPRENTICE!"

Lucifer chuckled. "Who else will appreciate your talents? Who will let you use your gifts to their fill and proper potential?"

The world around them rippled. For the briefest moment, Zach caught sight of his mother and father. His uncle Chris stood beside them. They were worried and weary.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"A place between," answered Lucifer unhelpfully.

"Between what?"

"Between Earth and whatever little haven my sisters cooked up for themselves."

Zach looked around at the bright void around him. There was no floor even, yet he was not floating. "The others?"

"Caught in illusions," said Anakin softly. It sounded like each syllable cost him dearly to utter. "Kenny made it through, I think."

Lucifer clapped his hands together once. The whole world shook. "Now, now, children. You don't keep secrets from your betters."

"Are the illusions his doing?" asked Zach, glaring at Lucifer.

The Power kept his distance despite his apparent ease about the situation.

Anakin hissed. "Most likely."

Lucifer sprang into action so fast Zach missed most of it. One moment Anakin was standing in front of him, and the next he was flying through the air, leaving his shoes behind. Zach pulled back enough to keep Lucifer's punch from knocking him senseless. It still made him see stars.

He rebalanced and charged at the shorter Power That Be. Lucifer threw himself low and slammed his shoulder into Zach's stomach. Zach felt the air rush out of his lungs. His momentum carried him over Lucifer. He spun slowly in the air and hit the nonexistent ground back first. His head slammed back, jarring his razor sharp teeth together. He felt a few shatter.

"Pathetic," mocked Lucifer. "Isis will have to whip you back into shape."

Zach struggled to get his overly long limbs back beneath him. He gasped for air. The movement of shadows altered him. He rolled onto his side and kicked out. Lucifer landed with his knee on the spot right where Zach's head had been. Zach's clawed foot caught Lucifer's back and ripped through cloth and flesh.

Lucifer howled. He twirled out of range.

Anakin appeared out of nowhere. A blindingly white light shone out of the palm of his hand. He cast the beam at Lucifer. Lucifer's howl turned into a shriek that rattled Zach's bones.

Lucifer vanished.

The bright void grew transparent revealing a lush meadow filled with multicolored flowers. Zach rushed to Anakin's side but was brought up short by a dozen spears being brought to bear. He froze on the spot. Twelve tangled vine creatures surrounded him. Each creaked and groaned threateningly.

"A naagolishii?" said a deep voice in a prim and proper British accent. "We haven't had one of you in quite a well."

* * *

AN: What do you think? Was it worth the wait? I know I ended on another cliffhanger. Sorrynotsorry. I want to thank you all for sticking with me. Assuming there are no more chapters being split apart, we are down to the final seven chapters. Isn't that a sad thought? Oh well, let's keep the creative juices flowing by sending in reviews/PMs. (Nagging always works.) ;)


	17. Show Them We Are Better

AN: Yes! I have returned. I won't bore you here with details. All I can say is I'm sorry and enjoy.

* * *

Show Them We Are Better

The giant lumbering tree creatures parted and stood at a military attention, their organic spears still at the ready. A slight summery zephyr played with the flowers, making them dance joyfully in the pleasant sunlight. The path made by the treelings provided Zach with an unobstructed view of his uncle's collapsed form. His heart hammered against his chest, willing Anakin to breathe.

Next to his uncle's unmoving body, the weather stood in stark contrast to the majority of the meadow. The flowers browned and wilted. A thin layer of minute icicles covered their tiny thick graying leaves. A swirling wisp of shadows pulsated in the center of the dying flowerbed. The shadows snickered, but to Zach, it felt like an animal raked its claws across his eardrums. Two large sickly green eyes with vertical slit-like pupils stared directly at him out of the shadows.

The naagolishii inside him craved to strike. He raged against his inaction. He recognized another predator and wanted it gone. He conjured up a dozen different horrendous bestial forms in Zach's mind. Zach shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He set his mouth firmly in place. Nails bit into his palms.

The twirling shadows stilled. The cat eyes never blinked. A thin mouth with needle-like teeth appeared beneath the eyes along with thick black grinning lips. Zach watched as the shadows settled, wrapping around a shape, like thick strips of cloth adumbrating a body. The creature stood on four long, powerful legs. Sharp metallic claws extended from the overly large paws. They retracted the moment Zach spotted them. The bands of shadow encircled tightly around a lithe feline body with a short stub of a tail. Thick midnight fur sprouted out of the skin. It was as black as the shadows save for a small patch of white fur in the center of its chest.

"A pity you have your beast in control. I do enjoy a cat fight to the death," the feline creature purred in a perfect English accent. 'Transform back to your human form, naagolishii."

"The name is Zach!" growled Zach.

The serval-sized creature glared at him. "Names of mortals mean little to me."

One of the closer treelings poked him with its spear. Zach felt the naagolishii reaching for control again. No lesser being had the right to touch him, much less threaten him. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to transform back. The process was agonizing. Each bone broke and reshaped a dozen times. His other half fought him each step of the way. He was vaguely aware of the treelings rustling. He smelled their fear. The black cat watched him with unnerving indifference. Somehow, he knew if he failed in this task the cat would attack, and he would cease to exist, one way or the other.

Finally, the last of his fingers returned to its original size and shape. "There," he gasped, breathing heavily. Sweat mixed with blood dripped from his brow.

"Lead him to the others," ordered the feline monster, his tone one of distinct displeasure.

Two of the treelings advanced in an undulating motion. Creaks and wooden moans filled the otherwise quiet meadow. The spears wrapped and melded back into the hundred and thousands of thick vines that composed the bodies of the treelings. Four diminutive beady yellow eyes sat inlaid on the thickest and greenest vines in the center of the main section of the creature's body, the closest things to faces. They had no mouths that Zach could discern.

One of them jostled him into motion. Zach stumbled and sucked in a yelp of pain. His shoulder felt close to being dislocated. The creatures were incredibly strong. He proceeded forward slowly. The ground shuddered beneath his feet with each oscillating step the two creatures took. He kept his eyes forward, wondering how fast they were. There was a chance he could outrun them; on the other hand, they were taking him to the others. He might stand a better chance of escape with backup.

A pang of anguish and anger brought him up short. He stumbled. Vision blurred by swelling tears. Anakin might be dead. His parents and Chris were severely injured at the very least. His brief vision of the three could not be trusted. An acute ache replaced his heart in his chest.

The multicolored flowers suddenly gave way to more hardy vegetation. Knee high bushes dotted the harsher landscape. The greens were darker and hardened. He brushed up against a bush on accident and jumped aside. Spiky thistles pulled away with him, hooked deeply into his calf. Something akin to laughter echoed from one of his prison guards. He bent down and gingerly pulled one of the spiny seedpods out of his skin. It left behind a dozen needle-sized breaks in his skin, which quickly leaked beads of blood. A wave of nausea washed over him. An uncomfortable burning sensation spread down to his toes and throbbed. The things were poisonous.

One of the treelings once again shoved him forward, more forcefully. Dizzy, he failed to regain his balance and fell to the rocky ground, scraping his knees.

"I'd stand up quickly if I were you, sonny Jim," said a squeaky male voice. "The dryads aren't known for their patience. Strange, considering they're bloody immortal."

Zach searched for the source of the voice. His eyes fell on one of the prickly bushes off to his right. A tiny wizened old man with a wiry gray beard sat on one of the long thin white thorns. He had rosy cheeks and dark haunting eyes. He stood up and bowed low.

"Sir Puck tis the name. A woodland sprite am I."

The slightly larger dryad creaked and groaned threateningly. Puck stuck out his tongue and blew a wet raspberry. The other dryad stamped its foot, causing the thorn Puck stood on to shake violently. He dove forward and hung onto the thorn. Zach clambered back onto his feet and turned around to the two dryads.

"Aren't dryads supposed to be nymphs?"

Both sets of eyes darkened. The smaller dryad attacked with a swift and powerful punch. Zach ducked. The world gave a horrible leap to the wrong side. He landed hard on his back. The darker green dryad pinned him to the ground with a suffocating force. They rumbled deeply and darkly. Leaves floated down around him.

Puck spoke up. "Yeah, they don't like being reminded of their punishment, sonny Jim."

Grudgingly the dryad released Zach just as he started seeing bursts of stars. He remained on the ground panting, catching his breath.

"So what are you?" asked Puck curiously, all seriousness forgotten.

"Human," choked out Zach.

Puck tittered. "No, you're not! No human can get back into the Garden."

"The garden? What garden?" asked Zach.

"The Garden, the first one, doofus."

Zach rolled over. Exhaustion sapped his will to move. He crawled forward and collapsed. A powerful, rough hand grabbed hold of him. It lifted him with ease and plopped him back on his feet. The leaves of the dryads rustled impatiently. Zach ignored them and faced Puck.

"Eden? You're fucking joking."

Puck chuckled heartily. "Where else would our Queens live?" he asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Zach gestured at the bush in which Puck resided. "That has thorns."

"The Curse spared no one, nothing, and nowhere," said Puck, yawning. "Ok, you're boring. Night."

Zach watched in shock as the small man retreated back into the depths of the bush. He glanced up at his guards. "He's crazy."

All eight eyes rolled at his pronouncement. The skinnier dryad pointed sharply in the direction they had been walking. He sighed and started walking. The idea of being in the Garden of Eden drove any other thought from his mind. He stopped noticing his surroundings and trudged along, lost in thought. Even the throbbing in his leg dimmed to a manageable annoyance.

They arrived at a small stone village of sorts. The ground was covered with a thin layer of permafrost. A large bonfire blazed in the center of the outcropping of slapdash Medival era peasant buildings. The whole area felt deserted and forgotten. Since entering the icy landscape, the dryads had lost their leaves and moved more sluggishly.

They rounded the bonfire. Zach stopped dead in his tracks. The building initially hidden by the fire kept the same design as the rest of the town if slightly less dilapidated. The sight, which froze him in place, was the two truly massive black dogs. They resembled chow chows if the chow chow had been half dragon. The muscular back halves of the dogs were covered in leathery scales and lacked tails. The fronts were no less muscular but covered in a thick fur. Puffs of smoke blew out of their noses in rhythm of their thunderous breaths. Their paws would look too large on a polar bear.

"Beauties aren't they?"

Zach quaked in his metaphorical boots.

A tall sinewy woman dressed in pelts and furs stepped out of the building the dogs were guarding. Her long honey blonde hair was braided and styled tightly in a functional bun. Thin pale lips cracked a sadistic and knowing smile. Large round amethyst eyes stared directly into his soul as the firelight flickered in their depths.

"I can take him from here. Return back to your master." Her voice was harsh and cold.

The dryads turned around and stomped away without comment. Zach watched them go, half-longing to be following them. He rubbed his palms against his bare upper arms. The tattered remains of his clothes did nothing to protect him from the icy weather. Even with the roaring bonfire, the air was well below freezing. He returned his gaze to the woman and the two dogs.

"Best you come inside," suggested the woman. "Cat Sith will wish to interrogate you upon his return. Catching pneumonia will only worsen the agony."

"Cat Sith?" asked Zach, unmoving.

The woman patted the head of one of the sleeping canines without stooping. "The guardian of our Queens' gateways.

Zach watched flames reflected in her eyes. "Who are you?"

The woman pursed her lips. "A Fae does not grant his or her Name freely. For now, call me Matilda."

"Matilda?" he choked down a laugh.

She narrowed her eyes. "A name I use among the apes," she said with a warning tone.

"Right." Zach gulped, still shivering. He glanced over his shoulder surreptitiously.

Tutting, the beautiful Fae brought his attention back to the two gargantuan dogs. The one to her right cracked open one glowing vermillion eye. It huffed testily and nudged her stilled hand. She returned to stroking its head.

"Running will only further weaken you, naagolishii. My hellhounds are quite exceptional beasts. They love the hunt and have yet to fail in capturing their desired prey."

"Naagolishii isn't my name," snapped Zach trying to gain some form of advantage.

Matilda stepped forward gracefully, barefooted. "Perhaps not, nevertheless it is the title I'm forced to address you with until you give me your Name."

"Zach. Call me Zach," he said stiffly.

She licked her lips with a forked tongue. "Zach—hmm—it does not ring with power."

"That's my name." Zach crossed his arms defensively.

She chuckled humorlessly. "A name, possibly, but not your Name." She emphasized 'Name.' "While less useful for beings blessed with a soul, a Name is always a useful piece of knowledge." She clucked her tongue. "Zach you shall be then."

The two hellhounds sat up and growled. The deep vibration sent pebbles jumping across the frozen ground. She indicated for him to follow her before turning and leading the way into the building. He eyed the hellhounds up and down and quickly followed, careful to keep his gaze on the ground as he passed between the two giant canines.

The room beyond the threshold held nothing in common with the stark and meager means of the village outside. It was princely. The floor was polished marble. A few intricate Persian rugs were placed in strategic spots. An ornate wooden table sat in the center with a large bouquet of those rainbow flowers upon it. He had not paid much attention in art class, but he recognized the paintings as being masterpieces. Matilda stood beneath one of an angel in full battle armor, spearing a dark devilish form.

"You will find your friends in the library. Please, do not try to escape." She vanished.

"Umm—where's the fucking library?" Zach asked the empty room.

"It is right here, dummy!"

Zach spun around. He immediately smiled the biggest and widest he had in his life. Through one of the many doorways leading off the room strode Matthew. His cousin looked no worse off than when they had been shoved into the ritual circle. The two cousins hugged in a tight embrace, reassuring each other they were not illusions.

"How?"

"Who?"

"Where?"

Zach pulled back, still grinning from ear to ear. "How'd you get here?"

Matt breathed out heavily. "It's a long story, but I'd wager it's about the same as your own. Rick and Kyle had similar experiences."

Matt took his hand and dragged him back through the doorway he had appeared in moments before. The library resembled the Library of Congress in as far s Zach could remember it from the trip his family took to Washington D. C. when he was younger. It was a large well-lit circular room with desks. Kyle and Richard sat at one of the desks huddled together in deep discussion.

"Look who finally showed up," said Matt cheekily.

Kyle and Richard looked up and jumped out of their seats. They rushed over and hugged him. He returned the hugs with equal vigor and feeling. Despite the situation, he could not stop smiling. His friends were fine.

"Must have been a hell of an illusion to keep you this long," said Kenny.

"Um—what?" asked Zach, feeling the beginnings of a blush to form.

Matt jumped in to explain. "Kenny was the first to be brought here. He figured it out. Each of us was trapped in an illusion built around our deepest desires. He thought he was a Hogwarts student."

Kenny bristled and frowned. "Did not! I was trapped in Hogsmeade with a wand, but I did not think I was a Hogwarts student. I told you!"

"Whatever, dude. You had a wand," teased Matt. "I was the next back. Those tree things are silent, impatient bastards. The one escorting me nearly crushed my ribcage when I started walking a little bit too slow."

"I'm sure it had nothing to do with your quick wit and sharp but ill-trained tongue," mocked Kenny.

Matt stuck out his tongue. "Anyway, my illusion or whatever it was had me being a rock star with all the pleasures that come along with that lifestyle." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Not that Soph needs to know that." His exuberance faltered. Doubt and anxiety flashed across his face.

"Richard came next," finished Kenny. "But that was three weeks ago. We're beginning to think you and Anakin were dead."

Richard nodded. "Or trapped in your perfect world."

Zach ignored the warming in his cheeks. "It was hardly a perfect world. None of you were there—actually, it was implied you all were dead."

"Cheers for that, mate," quipped Richard.

Zach immediately shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that. It isn't—I think it was…the way the illusion had to work. No magic meant I had—uh—well, the point is for magic to not be a part of my life anymore, for it to not have screwed it up…"

Kenny nodded. "Yeah, those illusions may have been from our deepest desires, but they were still fucked up. I was being questioned for murdering a kid before I escaped. How'd you escape?"

Zach swallowed keenly aware at the very real possibility he might still have been in his illusion. Without being told, he knew each of his friends had done something specific and dramatic to break out of their dream worlds. Anakin had broken him out, quite possibly at the cost of his own life. "Three weeks, huh?"

Matt recovered from his melancholy. "And it's been three very boring weeks, nothing but books to keep us busy. An undine, a fucking hot, scantily clad woman—like a nymph, serves us lunch and dinner; otherwise, we're left alone."

Kenny rolled his eyes and Richard buried his face in his hands at Matt's description.

"An undine?"

"They're water beings, and they're more related to mermaids than nymphs," explained Kenny.

Matt returned the eye roll. "Whatever, she's fucking hot."

"You are dating my best friend," declared Zach weakly.

Matt shrugged. "Yeah, so? We're still allowed to look. She has her Hollywood stars. I've got…"

"Ok, got it!" said Zach, clearing his throat.

They all sat down at the table Kenny and Richard were at when Zach arrived. Kenny shoved a thick and dusty book at Zach.

"It's an encyclopedia on Fae. That shadow cat is called a cat sith. They're extremely intelligent and well versed in the more nasty forms of magical arts. They're, also, rumored to have the ability to steal a person's soul."

Zach thought back to his brief encounter with the cat sith at the gate. He had certainly had no qualms about taking on a naagolishii. "Yeah, he was scary."

"The tree things are dryads. They're supposed to have the form of beautiful young women and are guardians of important sacred trees but were cursed when they failed to defend some trees from something. The book was very vague on the whole curse thing. Then there are the hellhounds outside. They're the hunting dogs of the Wild Hunt."

Zach stopped Kenny. "Wait, the Wild Hunt? That's a real thing? I thought it was just a song."

"No, it's real, and our lovely host, Matilda, is its second-in-command. You'll never guess who was its chief warlord."

Zach arched an eyebrow expectantly.

"Hellequin," said Richard in an almost awed voice.

Zach frowned the name sounded familiar. Slowly, it dawned on him. "You are shitting me."

Kenny shook his head. "Nope. He's the evil Power That Be involved in the whole Jonathan affair, wasn't he?"

"Yeah. He saved Jonathan's life."

"Turns out. That's the gift and curse of the Hunt."

Zach looked over at Matt. Matt met his eyes. "Annie?" he asked softly.

"He fought off Lucifer. I didn't…" His voice failed him. The image of Anakin's broken, unmoving body played over and over again in his head. He sucked in a sputtering breath.

They all fell silent for a few moments.

Matt broke it. "I reckon the fact that Lucifer made it into the circle is a good thing—for my dad and your parents and aunt Pyrrha. No way he had time to finish them off and make it through before Annie broke the circle." He said it in a determined and self-assured tone, but the feeling never reached his eyes. They were still like a helpless puppy.

Zach gave his hand a squeeze. The walk to the village had settled one thing in the end. The glimpse he had of his family had been real—or at least an echo of them reaching out to him. They were alive. They had to be.

"I think so, too."

"So…we think we've found a way to break out of this joint," said Kenny awkwardly.

Zach surveyed the room. He felt eyes on him, spying. There was nothing but desks, books, and lights.

"Fight against the Wild Hunt?"

Kenny placed his ring on the table. "This is Tiamat's ring. It packs quite a punch. I can channel my magic through it to give it an extra kick. You three are the Charmed Ones. There's very little capable of standing against the Power of Three."

"We've never really used the Power of Three. A simple spell here and there, maybe a ritual or two. It's not—we're not…" Zach struggled to find the words to express himself.

Matt saved him with an exasperated sigh. "We've gone over this, Kenny. We're not up to taking out Fae royalty. No spells. No potions. No Book. Besides, we've got access to the Power of Three, but we're not the Charmed Ones—not yet."

Kenny huffed. "We can't just sit here, waiting for whatever comes next. We don't even know what comes next."

Richard cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him. He rubbed the back of his neck. "We might not be able to battle our way the hell out of here, maybe we could. One thing is for certain: none of us can get us back to our world…"

The realization hit Zach like a block of bricks. He slumped into the nearest seat and ran shaky fingers through damp tangled and dirty hair. Looking up over his interlocked fingers, he noticed Richard was still talking. He forced himself to focus.

"...tell them what happened?"

Kenny shrugged. Matt chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. Richard's questioning eyes met Zach's, registering his confusion.

"What do you think, Zach? Could we contact out parents?"

Zach's frown deepened. They were poorly trained on the basics of witchcraft. Since the day they had accepted their powers the focus had always been on battling and fighting, first on their individual powers and recently as Charmed Ones. Spell writing, the fundamentals of potion brewing, scrying, and the like were as foreign to him as the day he was born.

"You want to perform a séance?" asked Matt sharply.

Richard shrugged, losing his resolve. "Or something like…"

Matt laughed harshly. "You're off your rocker. Seances, even if we knew how the fuck how to perform one, are meant to contact the dead. They're not dead. If anything, we're the dead ones. They're still in our world."

"Matt," admonished Zach.

Matt bit back a retort, rolled his eyes and turned away from the group.

Zach huffed. "It's an idea, Rick. A good one even."

"What's a good idea?"

All four boys jumped out of their seats, spun around, and grouped closer together. Cat Sith standing on his two long hind legs walked into the room. The surroundings changed as he approached them. The warmth of the library was replaced by stark fluorescent-like lighting and impersonal furniture. Zach instantly recognized the scene as an interrogation room of sorts. Four steel chairs appeared on one side of a long stone table. A padded stool made of crystal clear ice grew out of the ground. Cat Sith hopped onto the stool.

"Take your seats," he ordered.

None of them moved.

Cat Sith clicked his fangs together. "Pleasantry is not my primary attitude. I am far more comfortable with torture and destruction." His thick upper-crust English accent made the sincerity of his words far more threatening.

Zach stepped slightly forward. "Where's Anakin?"

Cat Sith's eyes thinned dangerously. "The Twice Born? He has told me all he could. Chairs, now, children."

Zach looked over his shoulder, arched a questioning eyebrow. His three friends shook their heads. He returned his attention to their captor. "With all due respect, Cat Sith, we prefer to stand."

Cat Sith's shadowy fur flattened. His short bob of a tail twitched. "Perhaps, the three remaining will be more willing to comply."

Cat Sith shot off his wintry stool. Zach transformed in the blink of an eye. His thick leathery hide rebuffed Cat Sith's attacks. He swung his long muscular trunk down, aiming for the fae's head. Only, Cat Sith was too fast and agile. The feline gracefully bound back and charged again. Zach shielded his friends again, using his mass to counter his attacker's speed.

"Impressive, naagolishii, but not nearly enough."

Cat Sith sunk into one of the shadows. Zach shrunk back into human form. The four boys automatically stood back to back. Something fast and dangerous bounded out of the darkest corner of the room. Zach yelled, throwing out one hand. Power rippled through the air. Cat Sith slipped out of Matt's shadow and strafed his long claws along Zach's right thigh. Zach dropped to the floor, crying out in pain. Cat Sith raked his claws across the witch's stomach, spilling intestines across the floor.

"Shit," moaned Zach, clutching at his guts.

Cat Sith settled back on his hind legs and licked his front paws clean of blood, purring contently. "Pity. Now, sit."

Matt dropped to his knees. "No, no, no. Zach. Zach!"

Kenny and Richard took aim at Cat Sith. The feline fairy grinned. Condescendingly he pronounced, "Zach was a mouse. You are gnats. Sit."

Matt glared at Cat Sith. "Fix him. I know you can. I read it in those books."

Cat Sith studied Matt curiously. "Then you know a bargain is required. A soul for a soul."

"Ma—tt…n—n—no," spluttered Zach weakly.

Matt stood up and nodded. "I know. My soul for his."

Richard and Kenny added their objections, but Matt silenced them.

"Deal?"

Cat Sith nodded once. He stepped lightly forward and froze, save for his mouth. "I have a bargain!"

"It is not their time," echoed a feminine voice. "A test of purity was required and passed. Be gone, servant. Return to the gardens."

The interrogation room returned to the image of a library. Cat Sith vanished with a burst of furious shadows and a generous flurry of snow. Zach, too, disappeared with a pop. Matt screamed with carnal rage and frustration.

"Bring him back!" He yelled, looking at the ceiling.

There was no answer. The last of the snowflakes sublimated, leaving the library in the same state it had been before Zach's arrival except for the three devastated boys. Matt crumpled on the same spot he had occupied while cradling Zach. Kenny sat at the table with his head in his hands. His whole body shook with silent sobs. Richard remained dead still and silent; eyes fixed on his cousin. Helpless exhaustion eventually claimed them, sending them into a fitful sleep.

* * *

It started off with a kiss.

The woman had a sumptuous mouth. Not too thin and not too full, just right. Somehow, he knew it was always soft, always warm. When she kissed him, it was like the world and its cares vanished. Nothing else mattered but the touch of her lips on his. He kissed the tall mysterious yet familiar woman, and she melted against him with a melodious groan, the length of her body pliable and excited. Her hands swept up and trailed over his chest, nails lightly raking fabric and the skin beneath in a gratifying manner.

He broke away from the kiss after a long delicious moment, and his eyes felt almost too heavy to open. His lips quivered and tingled with sensation, a feeling that begged for more to make it cease. She looked up at him, eyes smoldering with intense desire. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a long, silken tail that fell neatly between her shoulder blades. It was longer than he remembered from memories he did not have. Her lovely blue topaz eyes sparkled. She tilted her aquiline face up toward his own.

"Are you alright?" He asked her. He felt like he always did despite not knowing the woman's name. She, as always, gave him a small, sad smile and did not answer. He bit his lower lip. "Are you alright?" He repeated.

She shook her head and drew back from him. He regained the presence of mind to look around. They stood in a darkened alleyway with heavy, pounding techno music reverberating out from the nearest wall. She wore dark tights and a sleeveless blouse. She looked at me intently and then turned toward the unoccupied entrance to the club below.

"Wait," he called out with a small frown. His tongue felt too big in his mouth. His movements felt sluggish.

She ignored him and continued to the door. She stepped further into the shadows near the door, paused, and turned around. She extended her very feminine hand. The door opened without the music's sound increasing. Reddish light flooded out over her, doing odd things to the shadows over her face and accentuating her curves. Her blue eyes grew dark and larger. Rather, the black of her pupils simply expanded until the whites were gone. There was nothing but darkness where her eyes should have been. They were even worse than the black eyes of demons or the Source. They sucked the color out of the air.

"I can't," he mumbled, tongue-tied. "We can't go in there."

Her features grew frustrated and angry. She extended her hand to him, more forcefully. The nails were almost talons.

Hands came out of the darkness in the doorways, slim, pale, and androgynous. They slipped over the woman who he knew, slowly caressing her. He felt a jolt of jealousy. They tugged at her clothes, at her hair. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment; her body grew stiff. Her weight shifted toward the doorway.

Jealousy and longing overcame his thought process. The urge to be nearer came on sudden and sharp like a surgeon's knife. Hunger and desire, a simple a violent need to touch and to be touched, swelled within him. Mindless, he stepped closer.

"Don't…"

He felt her hand catch his, her lips pressed hard on his. A moan slipped out. Her lips, her mouth devoured his with ravenous kisses. Kisses he answered as skepticism faded. The idea he could not know this woman was absurd. He had always known her, and she him. They were meant to be.

He felt the kisses turn poisonous. The numbness spread slowly from his lips and tongue through his mouth and into his body. The narcotic high dulled any remaining hints of refusal. He kissed her roughly, tore at her clothes. She tore at his with equal vigor. The hands helped, but he paid them no mind. They were unimportant compared to the sensation of her mouth on his, then on his neck. Her kisses trailed down bare skin. Her hands reached his belt. They slipped further down. He groaned out in pleasure.

He felt the warmth and suppleness of her breasts. She guided his hands down over the smooth velvet of her stomach. She had lost her tights. He felt her heat. He slipped one finger in and then a second.

She quivered, breathing out his name in a stifled moan.

"Enough!"

Richard recognized the voice. It stirred memories, real memories, in the back of his drug-fouled brain. He blinked and stepped back from the naked woman in front of him. She was a stranger. He recognized nothing about her except for her beauty.

The naked young woman's eyes returned to their sky blue state. Power shimmered off her perfect skin. An airy and rumpled pure white dress covered her nakedness barely. He could still make out the outline of her nipples. He shook his head.

"Be gone, Erotes," commanded the familiar feminine voice.

Erotes batted her eyelashes at him and walked away, swaying her hips enticingly.

Richard felt a warm summer breeze move over his skin. He looked around, searching for Matt and Kenny. He was alone in an open and empty room save for the bed with undisturbed pillowy white covers. The room opened up onto a beautiful and well-maintained rose garden. Each rose bush was trimmed and pruned to be the exact representation of a rose bush. The grass was neat and cut short and the greenest green. Thick and tall hedges outlined the edges of the garden. Beyond stood towering elm trees. A songbird sang in the distance. In the center of the garden stood a granite birdbath with something oval, smooth, and luminesce. The whole scene was tranquil, soothing, perfect.

He felt a presence behind him and whirled around. A woman with an unnerving air of power and command stood before him. She wore a summer dress littered with a floral pattern on a background of dark green. She filled out the dress pleasantly. Barefoot, she stood a head shorter than him. Small waxy white flowers were woven into the plait of her long, thick, dark brown hair, which reached passed her shapely buttocks. Her facial features were softer than Erotes'. Her eyes cycled through the hues of the rainbow but strayed into the shades of green more often than not. She smiled revealing shiny pearl white teeth.

"Richard," she greeted in a warm comforting almost motherly tone. It still held an inkling of the harsh commanding voice from before.

Richard gulped. "Hi…um…"

The white flowers in her hair gave way to pink, purple, and yellow ones nearer the top of the braid, forming a simple crown. She picked one of the yellow petals and let it drift to the floor. A garden chair grew out of the tiled ground to met it. The petal expanded into a comfortable pillow. She sat down, crossing her legs, giving him ample view of her enticing calves.

"My name is…" she paused and frowned. "Well, for now, we'll call me Titania, Queen of Warmth and Earth, Mother of Summer."

Richard choked. 'Um—wh—wh—uh…" He blathered.

Her eyes settled on a green-grey tint. "I have a proposition for you."

He nodded stupidly, feeling weak in the knees. Here was one of the beings they were searching for, right in front of him. "Um—uh—right."

"I will take that as an assent to hear me out." One moment she was seated and the next she stood beside him. She pointed out to the birdbath in the center of the garden. "You can see one of my most prized possessions. It is a Well of Souls."

Her aroma of a fresh summer shower with hints of lilies invaded his mind. She brushed against his bare skin. Electricity shot through him. He became suddenly acutely aware he was in a state of compromising undress. His mouth dried up.

"A Well of Souls is the resting place for the dearly departed who would find Paradise too painful for the time being. They still have loved ones on Earth who they cannot live without or whose existence in Paradise was interrupted." She continued in a silky tone.

Richard blinked slowly. The narcotic rush and numbness washed over him. "Uh huh."

Titania stepped away onto the small cobblestone path. Richard followed her like an obedient little puppy. She stopped in front of the birdbath. Richard stepped up beside her and looked down at the opalescent stone in its center. The mother-of-pearl surface rippled. It reflected his face. The ripples died down. His face reflected back at him, but it was no long his face.

"Michael," he gasped.

Titania reached out and her fingers slipped through the surface of the stone. She caressed Michael's face. Removing her hand, she faced Richard.

"My offer is simple. Promise to leave my sister and me alone. In return, I will reunite you and your brother."

Richard's eyes grew wide. "You—you can do that?"

Titania smiled and patted him on the head. "Of course, my precious boy. I am a Power of Old, one of the Original. I hate to see a soul suffer as you do, beautiful young man. Let me ease your pain. Join your brother. All I need is your word. A promise made thrice."

She stepped closer to him. His head spun. She was intoxicating. Her nearness forced thoughts of lesser things to flee. He struggled to remember his name. A nail drew patterns down his neck and back, around to his chest.

"I can recall Erotes or fetch your mortal female. Be at peace. Accept my gift. Relinquish the quest your family forced on you. Say the words. Rest eternal."

He closed his eyes. His breath deepened and eased. Swaying, images of his brother played in the darkness. His brother's pleas for him to join him whispered on the gentle warm breeze. He tried to find a reason to refuse and failed. His life had sucked for a while, and she was offering him a way out.

"Beth," he murmured. "My mom…dad."

"They will understand. Paradise," tempted Titania.

He forced his eyes open and stared at her. Her dress pressed against her shapely form. She had a triumphant smile in her rainbow eyes. Her mouth set in predatory joy like a cat's just before it kills the mouse.

He focused on her words. He had read up on faeries. They never made deals to their disadvantage. A Well of Souls sounded familiar as well. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, thinking, remembering. A Power could not resurrect the dead not without a balance, a cost.

"The cost…"

Titania frowned; her face hardened. "It is no concern. We stand closer to my Father's home here than on Earth. The veil is thin."

"Not thin enough," reasoned Richard, gaining confidence. "Uriel would not stand for it."

"Uriel is a child."

Richard shook his head. He saw the golden armor beneath the dress. "You are afraid. The Well—the Well…"

Titania glared at him.

"The Well acts as a battery. A battery powered by trapped souls."

Titania howled. "And the power is mine!"

Richard took a step back. Titania remained rooted at the birdbath. "Why say you would release—you didn't say you would release Michael. You said you'd reunite us. You meant to kill me and trap my soul!"

Caught out, Titania laughed in a singsong tone. "The Well traps souls out of place or those caught by a pact. My brother's children are not terribly imaginative. The Well is the source of all Faustian deals."

"And souls are a power source…"

Titania recomposed her face. "Powers That Be eat souls for power. They are much easier—more nuclear if you like—when not attached to an ape's flesh."

Titania touched the Well. Michael rose to the surface again. She looked at Richard. "He is still trapped, a prisoner because of choices made by others. I will free him. Let him rejoin the rest of your dead family members. You simply need to make a choice: end your quest."

Richard looked at his brother. A tear trickled down his cheek. "I'm sorry, Mike." He faced Titania. "No."

Her face lit up with golden fire. The fire consumed her dress, leaving behind the golden armor. Her eyes blazed with colors unknown to Earth. She reached for the birdbath and lifted it easily over her head. The opal stone plopped to the muddy grass at her feet.

"You force me to kill you then. You bring danger to my sister and me. I cannot allow you to find us."

Richard froze in the face of overwhelming power.

Anakin limped into the garden through a rip in the universe. Icicles crusted over his footsteps. "You will do no such thing. Your Queen tasked you with his temptation. He has passed."

Titania's form melted back into the form of Erotes. The flames gained a green tinge to them like the leaves on trees just prior to fall. She leveled the birdbath at Anakin. It vaporized inches from his face without him so much as flinching. He tilted his head to one side.

"Passion served you well, Erotes. Do not let it rule you. Collect your Queen's jewel and return to her presence."

Erotes flexed her claws. Anakin looked down at her serenely. She bent down and collected the Well and passed in a swirl of flowers and leaves. Anakin collapsed to one knee, breathing heavily.

Something clicked in Richard's brain. It started commanding his muscles to move. He hurried over to his uncle. Anakin looked at him with a smile.

"I think I underestimated you, Rick."

Richard scrunched up his face. "Thanks?"

Anakin struggled to his feet, using Richard for support. "Once I figured out the game—you were the one with the most to lose on a test of sacrifice."

"How'd you figure that?"

"Because I have something similar they can hold over me."

Richard rubbed his temples. "I'm getting a headache."

Anakin waved his hand and the rip in the universe reappeared. "Let's return to the Hall of Valhalla. I will explain as much as I can there."

Richard stepped through the seam in reality and found himself back in the library. Kenny and Matt sat at the same table they had all occupied. He looked over his shoulder just as Anakin slipped back into the room. The rift zipped closed with a slight pop.

"How'd you do that?"

Anakin shrugged. "There is less free will here."

"What does that…" Noticing he was being ignored, Richard huffed and sat down next to Matt. Matt gave him a one armed hug. "Zach?"

"Cat Sith was a bit ambitious in following his Queen's wishes. I have no doubt that Matilda will have him on the mend, but it'll take time."

Kenny hugged his knees to his chest. "You don't look too great yourself."

Anakin smirked and slumped into a chair. "Oof. Thank you. I'd like to see you look much better after holding off Lucifer."

"You fought Lucifer?" asked Richard, confused.

Anakin sagged. "No. Thankfully, he was focused on regaining Zach as his apprentice. I just annoyed him enough that his focus slipped, allowing Zach to react accordingly."

"What does that mean?"

"We slowed Lucifer down, and I'm running on empty," explained Anakin succinctly, resting his head back against his chair and closing his eyes.

Richard, still reeling from his encounter with Erotes, lacked the patience he normally possessed. "You said you'd explain things."

Anakin groaned and kept his eyes closed. "I did. What do you want to know?"

"Everything!"

Anakin chuckled. "Of course. Well, we don't have time for everything. How about I tell you everything that is relevant to our current predicament?"

The three teens voiced their approval enthusiastically.

Anakin rocked forward and rested his head in his hands, perched on his knees. "We are currently being hosted by one of the most powerful members of the Winter Court of the Fae. It is the Hall of Valhalla…"

Matt interrupted him. "Isn't Valhalla an island?"

"Valhalla is an island, ruled by the Valkyrie. This is the Hall of Valhalla, the quarter house of the Wild Hunt. Technically it is still neutral ground for the Courts, but the last Lord Marshal of the Hunt to be from Summer was the Lord of Goblins back before the Flood. For the past millennium, the Lord of Valhalla has been Lady Mallt-y-Nos or as you know her: Matilda."

"That's great, Annie. What's it got to do with killing Lucifer?"

Anakin sucked in his lower lip. "I'm laying out the players. Beyond Matilda, the other emissary for Winter is Cat Sith. He guards all entrances to Fairyland for his Queen. He is also an excellent interrogator and is capable of taking out a Power given the right circumstances. We don't want to piss him off."

"Wait, wait—Cat Sith can kill a Power!"

Anakin wavered. "He couldn't kill a Power, but he'd make it damn impossible for that Power to continue on further. He's old—almost as old as magic, itself. On the side of Summer, the emissaries are Erotes, a fairy skilled in the lustier passions, and Ddraig Goch, the first dragon."

Matt burst out laughing; his nerves getting the better of him. He lost his balance and fell to the floor. "You've got to be joking. This is like a gathering of the fairy story convention. These are stories my mom told me because they were the bedtime stories her grandmother told her."

Shrugging, Anakin looked at the other two teenagers. Neither said anything when he gave them a questioning glance. He continued, "Serena's great-great-something grandmother was a Druid. The fairytales told to her by her grandmother are highly edited versions of the truth."

Kenny held up his hand. Anakin nodded. "Um—so how come you didn't know all this and suddenly do?"

"That's complicated. It's part of the limits placed on me because of my unique status. This pocket world exists without true free will for the time being. That means I'm able to access things I couldn't and can't back home."

Matt clambered back onto the bench. "That makes less sense than my mom being a Druid."

Anakin chuckled. "She isn't. Druidic blood died off centuries ago. She is a descendant of the Druid tribe that once ruled pretty much the same area she's now the Countess of today."

"She's a Baroness," corrected Matt.

"He knew that," muttered Richard.

Anakin bowed his head. "The point is the British Isles were for a time the seat of the Entrance to the Garden, explaining their rich folklore. The Entrance drifts across the surface of our world, making it difficult to pinpoint. Currently, it is somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean."

"So we didn't use the Entrance?" asked Kenny.

"No." Anakin motioned with his finger, and a book flapped open in front of the young man. "The Entrance is guarded by beings which make Cat Sith look like a playful kitten. No one is using the Entrance until the time of Judgment."

Kenny looked down at the page in the book. It was a beautiful painting of two beings with eight wings covered with flaming eyes. Their bodies were a conglomeration of animal parts. Their heads were lost in a whirlwind of color. He looked back up at Anakin. "What are they?"

Anakin shivered. "Two members of the personal bodyguards of the Father. They are the only two of their kind to be stationed outside the Presence. A Power might stand a fighting chance against one of them."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Enough with the pointless exposition. Get to the reason we're here."

"We're going through the trials. We pass, and the Queens grant an audience. Fail, and—and, well, we can't afford to fail."

The three teens looked like deer caught in headlights. Anakin hurried to cut off their obviously growing concern and fear.

"Each of us needs to prove our worth, and so far you have all done so. The only one left to test is me."

Richard frowned. "Wait, what?"

"There were tests based on each of our greatest flaws, our weakness the enemy could exploit. Kenny proved he has on some level accepted his full heritage. Matt accepted there will be a great cost to victory. You, Rick, you showed your willingness to choose the greater good over personal gain."

Richard continued to stare quizzically at his uncle. "But I—I saw through the game. I didn't—I'm not sure I would, or could really give up my brother's soul for anything. If we could bring him back, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Anakin nodded sagely. "Of course, but those are superfluous details to the Queens. The rules are you need to pass the test. There is no stipulation on how you pass. Thankfully, it is one of the few things that have fallen in our favor."

"What will your test be?" asked Kenny softly, playing with the ring on his finger.

Shrugging, Anakin breathed out heavily. The light in the library dimmed. Outside, sunset spread vibrant colors across a clear sky. Flames sprung to life atop candles throughout the room. The fireplace burned brighter, making the temperature rise to an uncomfortable level. Plates of food appeared on a nearby table. No one rose to eat.

Night truly settled in around the countryside before anyone moved. The door to the library opened and Matilda strode through flanked by two miniature but still wolfhound-sized hellhounds. The two dogs settled down in front of the fire. Matilda took a seat next to Anakin.

"The young naagolishii is in recovery. He will be returned to you tomorrow morning should everything continue as Ddraig predicts."

Anakin arched an eyebrow. "Did Winter not have a healer?"

"You banished him back to guard duty."

"That psycho is your healer!" exclaimed Matt. "Fucking whack jobs."

Matilda's eyes narrowed and ice crystals coated her sparse eyelashes. "Be careful, ape, the law of hospitality stretches only so far."

Matt glared at the woman. "I don't give a shit about your laws. Who the hell thought it'd be a good idea to make Jack the Ripper's teacher the fucking Surgeon General."

One of the hellhounds let out a thunderous growl. Matt flicked his hand. A knife from the untouched dinner table leaped into the air. The pointed instrument tumbled and smacked the canine across the cheek, leaving a gash. Its partner jumped to its giant clawed feet and howled, shattering glass. The massive smoking dog charged forward. Its jaws nearly fastened around a stunned Matt's neck when a bolt of light struck it in its chest. The hellhound crashed into a table, crushing it beneath its weight. It tried to stand and whimpered, falling back to the floor.

Anakin, leaning heavily on the back of his chair, stood with an arm outstretched. Matilda moved an inch. He raised a finger in her direction. His eyes glowed brightly with sapphire flames. The whites were replaced by a darkness too absolute for description. He inclined his head. She relented.

He returned his attention to the injured hellhound. A snap of his finger shattered its physical form. Thick oily smoke dribbled out across the ground and seeped into invisible cracks in the flooring. The remaining demonic guard dog squeaked and retreated; its metaphorical tail between its scale-covered legs.

Matilda had her mouth open to respond when the hellhound came crashing through the door. It landed in a crumpled pile near the fireplace. The fire died. While Matilda and the teenagers rose from their seats, a tall, powerfully built man slammed a hand against the ruined doorframe. The whole building shook. Dressed in ridiculously lavish robes, he stood swaying in the doorway for a moment, taking in the room. Something red and glowing seeped down his black leather boots. The liquid melted the floor, leaving acrid swirls of steam.

One of his eyes was missing, covered by a scar, which marred most of the right side of his face. His other eye was mostly black but from a hollow diamond of red and orange. It settled on Anakin. A smile revealed crocodilian teeth.

"The rumors are true. I've not tasted one of your kind since the Flood."

The skin along his jaw and up to his ear peeled back from his face. Smoke issued forth from the newly revealed slits. His skin, originally dark and pristine, took on a rough-hewn pattern. He growled deeply like an alligator. Muscles bulged, readied to propel him forward.

Matilda stepped forward, hissing and snarling at the intruder. Her fingers curled into talons. She too gained a far more nightmarish form. Her skin wrinkled and she gained a stoop in her stance.

"Ddraig, this is mine."

Matt attacked first, throwing a fist at Ddraig's face. The first dragon caught the fist in one hand and squeezed. Bones audibly popped. He lifted the teen up from the crushed hand and threw him across the room. The boy flew over tables and chairs, clipped the side of a statue with his head, and landed hard on the floor unmoving.

Ddraig crouched, preparing to launch himself at Matilda or Anakin when Richard and Kenny attacked him from behind. Still, in the midst of adolescence, neither teenager had the bulk to bring down the powerful man. Nevertheless, the two drove him forward into the sidewall of the library, narrowly missing the adults. Richard and Kenny timed their attacks perfectly. Ddraig met the wall face first with bone-shattering force, and for the briefest of moments, it appeared they had succeeded in subduing the dragon.

All at once, however, he straightened and sprang. His sucker punched Richard in the stomach with enough force to lift the tall boy several feet off the floor, knocking the wind out of him. A telekinetic jerk sent the teenager hurtling underneath a distant table.

The hulking man elbowed Kenny in the nose, but the elemental turned away, receiving only a glancing blow. It still managed to break the nose but left him conscious. He threw a blast of solid air out between them. Ddraig ran straight into the shield. The resulting concussion of mass and energy drove Kenny back into the wall. The smoke pouring out of the sides of his face ignited. The dragon drew in a deep breath. Kenny squeezed his eyes shut, knowing no amount of control over the elements would save him.

Matilda stepped in the path of the dragon's breath. Ice met flames and sublimated. An explosion of superheated gas blasted through the room. A bubble of energy surrounded the elemental, protecting him from the worst of the explosion. He still fell to the ground, disoriented, weak, and sore.

Ddraig rose out of the debris unscathed. Matilda lay motionless over the remains of the hellhound.

"Looks like I feast tonight," chuckled Ddraig triumphantly.

"You're forgetting someone, bub," snapped Anakin as he blasted the dragon with an energy ball the size of a beach ball.

Ddraig fell back to one knee, crossing his armored arms in front his chest and face. The energy ball washed over him. He twisted his hand around and up. A large chunk of stone ripped out of the ground and hurtled at Anakin.

Anakin waved in a quick circle. The solid chunk of cement and stone turned into a fine dusting of gray sand. He pointed a finger at the dark-skinned dragon. Bolts as thick as telephone poles of electricity gathered around the witch for a moment. They zigzag across the air and connected Anakin's finger to the center of the dragon's chest. Anakin poured more power into the attack. The heat from the electricity turned the sand into glass. Still, Ddraig stood, straining against the attack.

Anakin dropped the attack and spun, vanishing with a pop. He reappeared behind his opponent. He whipped his arms out wide. A crack appeared in the roof above Ddraig. He looked up. Anakin pulled his arms down to his side with a sharp snap. The roof collapsed.

Ddraig let out a burst of flames. The flames withered and sunk back into the dragon's mouth. The powerful man fell to his knees. As lumber and straw fell down around him, something inside him broke. He collapsed to the ground. Anakin flicked his hands and time froze. He sauntered over to the fallen dragon. Bending down, eyes burned again with sapphire.

"Yield."

Blood dribbling out of his mouth, Ddraig stared up at Anakin with fear and fury. "What are you?"

Anakin blinked. The world inverted in color, sound, and shape. Ddraig, Matilda, and the hellhounds were lost. The unconscious forms of the three teenagers fell at his feet in a field of purple grass. He looked up to see a blue sun. In the distance stood a golden pyramid.

"Well done, nephilim," said a disembodied voice seeped with pleasure.

* * *

AN: So...was that worth the wait? I hope so! The next chapter is in the works. Here's hoping I finish writing it soon. As always reviews are welcome.


	18. Trenzalore

AN: It's extra long...so don't kill me...please?

* * *

TRENZALORE

The black ice cliffs of wherever the hell they were stood a hundred feet tall and at least half that thick. Walking through the ominous poorly lit gateway felt more like walking along a warped and frozen subway line—except for all the bones.

Every breath, every step, every rasp of bone on bone rubbing, multiplied into thousands of echoes which grew louder and softer in a mockery of the Doppler effect. The bones piled higher as they crept forward. Their breath misted up in miniature clouds before them. About halfway through the gateway, the skeletal remnants were so numerous they covered every inch of the ground. Gritting their teeth, they stepped on the bones and continued forward. Snaps and cracks of breaking bone added to the cacophony. The element of surprise was no longer an option.

The footing was too treacherous. The deep green and violet, and occasionally red or blue, pulses of luminance in the black ice walls did nothing to light the way. They only made the shadows shift and flow subtly, playing with shape and depth.

"This is the worst acid trip ever," muttered Paige.

Phoebe laughed nervously.

"Shh," admonished Piper.

If a demon appeared at the far end of the tunnel and charged, things would get nasty, fast. Given who they believed to be in the area, it was doubtful their powers would do much to slow them down. It would take the Power of Three, and they were sorely ill prepared to throw together a spell on the fly. The bones and ice made physical confrontation an even poorer choice.

Irrational fear threatened to overtake them. Piper, in particular, raced to reach the other side. She needed to find her sons, her family. Only a lifetime of demon fighting kept her from plowing through the piles of bones and worse without thought. Patience and caution prevailed.

She emerged from the gate into a courtyard in the midst of a permanent Arctic winter. The inside of the fortress was bleak, bitter, and beautiful in its simplicity and symmetry. There was a definitive lack of buildings, of a castle. Stairs led up to the battlements atop the walls at exactly even intervals. The courtyard was flat, smooth, covered in a thick sheet of ice, and at its center stood an angular distorted spire. Atop the spire sat a crenelated parapet that overlooked the walls and the grounds beneath.

The courtyard also held a sense of quiet stillness to it, as though it was not a place meant for living, breathing beings. The howl of wind outside and overhead did not reach the ground. It was silent as a tomb or forgotten graveyard, and each footstep sounded clearly on the ice, Echoes bounced back and forth in disapproval and menace.

Bones spilled out in a wave from the gate, rapidly tapering off after a few yards. Beyond that were only scattered groupings of twisted and misshapen skeletons. Paige walked over to one of the nearest piles and inspected it. The skull was too big to fit into an oil drum. The bone was too thick and dense to look entirely human. It reminded her of the remains of cavemen she had seen on a family field trip to the museum years previous.

"What the hell was it?" asked Phoebe. She too was looking down at a different skull. Her skull was slightly smaller but had the beginnings of horns abutting its brows.

"No clue," said Paige and Piper at the same time.

"Let's not stick around to find out," continued Piper, looking up at the central tower.

Phoebe abandoned the skull and stepped closer to her sisters. "Maybe we should take a moment. I mean—we were orbing to where Paige last felt Pyrrha and the rest. How the hell did we end up in the middle of a frozen medieval castle? I thought they were using a convergence of ley lines in the Canadian Rockies."

Paige joined them. "That is where I planned on taking us. Annie and Pyrrha did theorize that between the convergence and trying to open a gate to fairyland might make magical transportation wonky. It's why they orbed to the nearest town and hiked the rest of the way."

"Wonky how?" asked Piper, clearly losing patience.

Paige shrugged and gestured around them. "Like this?"

"So we're not where we need to be?"

Shaking her head, Paige pointed at the parapet. "It's faint, but I sense my daughter from up there."

"But we don't trust orbing?" asked Phoebe for confirmation.

Paige agreed, shoulders slumping. Concern flittered across her pale face; quickly replaced by determination.

"So we find the door to get into that thing." Without waiting for a response, Piper strode off toward the dark tower.

Mixed among the too large bones were broken piece of black ice interlaced with a strange metallic substance almost like almost solid mercury. The jigsaw-like remains reminded her of armor somehow. A few pieces bore the remnants of ornate engravings in gold and silver, confirming her suspicions. The artwork was among the most elaborate she had seen. Subconsciously, she counted out distinct piles of bones and icy armor: thirteen.

"There were thirteen of them," she whispered.

"Huh?"

She stopped and faced her sisters. "Thirteen piles of bones. And look at some of the ice, it's armor. They were guardians of this place."

"Who do you think killed them?" inquired Phoebe softly.

"Does it matter?"

Paige bent down to study the closest piece of armor. Scorch marks marred the edges. "This one was hit by at least one fire ball."

"Could be demons or Wyatt," griped Piper.

The second piece Paige picked up and turned it over. The ice was pockmarked. Tiny rivers of refrozen ice extended out from the holes. Something told her melting the ice took more than a simple fireball. While she had no doubt her oldest nephew was strong enough to produce the attack required to make such wounds, it was not his style.

"I don't think it was Wy," uttered Paige beneath her breath.

She stood back up and looked around. A shiver ran up and down her spine that had nothing to do with the subzero temperature. They were being watched.

Interspersed between the thirteen piles of remains were bones similar to the ones they are trodden upon in the gateway. The remains were smaller and less human yet still simian.

"These things remind me of trolls and orcs from those movies the boys like."

Paige glanced down at a skull and silently agreed with Phoebe. The feeling of being watched grew. She stiffly stepped back, closer to her sisters. Automatically, Piper and Phoebe reacted. They turned outward, pressed their backs together.

"What?" hissed Piper out of the corner of her mouth.

"A feeling," returned Paige.

"I don't see anything."

Piper narrowed her eyes. "Head to the tower. We need to find the door."

They crept toward the massive spire. Like the rest of the castle and courtyard, it was made of dark ice. They circled the base. It was a solid piece of ice. There was no hint of a divot or crevice to indicate the presence of an entrance. The purple, blue, and green pulsating lights swirled and mocked them in their quest.

"There's nothing here," said Piper in frustration. She angrily rapped her knuckles on the ice, eliciting a dull non-echoing thump.

"Try blasting it," suggested Phoebe.

"No," warned Paige. "It could rebound. Look at the damage to the guards. There was a massive display of power, and yet the surface of the tower is completely untouched."

Piper clucked her tongue. "Now what?"

At her words, the ice groaned. It parted right where Piper had knocked, forming an archway. The ice hiding it flowed flawlessly into the rest of the tower. The interior of the tower was all shadows and slowly shifting colored lights that did little to provide illumination. Inside was nothing bit a spiral staircase, winding perfectly up through the center of the spire toward the parapet.

"That's not creepy at all," deadpanned Phoebe.

Without warning, a sledgehammer slammed into the corner of the archway near Piper's head. She fell down, sporting a cut across her cheek from chipped ice. The three sisters spun around and gasped.

The skeletal remains across the courtyard were no longer simple piles of bones. Rotting and burnt flesh knitted together over animated bones. Ice armor swallowed former owners and acted to hold broken bodies together. Flashes of purple and sickly green magic buzzed across jagged gaps. Ghostly clouded gray eyes swiveled independently in eye sockets.

"Zombie trolls! Seriously!" complained Phoebe, dodging a tomahawk thrown at her head.

Piper raised her hand and blasted apart a massive gnarly mace, before trying to do the same to its wielder. The armor across the giant troll's chest bent inward. The sound of a thunderous gong echoed across the courtyard. A large section of the frozen floor at Piper's feet exploded, sending her tumbling backward through the open archway.

Paige telekinetically orbed a sledgehammer into the head of the troll with ram horns growing out of its forehead. The thing fell backward, squashing a half dozen of the cockroach-like orcs. Black ichor squelched out from beneath it.

Phoebe fought off a handful of the orcs expertly wielding two battle-axes. They were superhumanly fast, but they kept tripping over each other giving her the edge. She severed the head off two of them. Their bodies collapsed to the ground in piles of black goop.

"Go for the heads," yelled Phoebe.

Piper vanquished two trolls with ease. She turned her attention to a third troll. She flicked her wrists, aiming for its head. The zombies, however, were quick learners. It moved far too fast for a creature of its bulk and picked up an orc. The smaller creature shattered into a thousand bloody shards. The troll scooped up another unsuspecting orc and pitched it at Piper. She froze it in midair, inches from her face. The creature snarled. She blew it apart like its friend.

Despite the relative ease if dispatch, the numbers were against them. For every single orc they killed, three or four arose to take its place. The vanquished trolls were also slowly pulling themselves back together. They were fighting a doomed campaign.

"Into the tower!" cried Piper.

Phoebe and Paige heeded her call and raced back to the archway.

"Not so fast!"

A man, perhaps a year or two older than Zach, stepped out of shadows. With blond hair and gray eyes, the man was far shorter than any of his brethren, but the sisters immediately recognized him as an Ennead. Dressed in all stately black, Set was eye-catching despite his stature, almost handsome. At his side hung a bronze blade. Fleck of purple and green magic played between his slender fingers. Without preamble, he twisted one hand. Ice groaned and the whole spire wobbled.

"NO!" screamed Piper, furious and desperate. She flicked her hand and charged Set.

The largest troll jumped in her way, sending a shockwave of ice out across the courtyard. Arms tipped with gleaming black talons rose up, ready to strike down. Piper did not hesitate. She imperiously batted her hand in its direction. The zombie troll toppled heavily to the ground, headless.

She reached Set and punched. Her hand flew through icy mist. Set vanished, reappearing out of shadows closer to the gateway. He smiled and spread his fingers out. Spikes of ice ripped out of the ground and enclosed the archway entrance to the spire. Set drew his sword and beckoned Piper to attack. She held out her hand, and Excalibur appeared. Piper looked at the ancient sword in surprise.

"The sword has returned to the Lady. I wonder what that means," mocked Set. He gave her a salute and vanished.

Piper turned, searching for him as a tall orc built out of charcoaled flesh charged her. She caught its deadly swipe of its claws on the edge of Excalibur. A flash of green-white light ignited the orc. It retreated, howling in pain. More zombified warriors soon replaced it.

Piper crouched and twisted in a sharp practiced movement. The famed blade cut and burned apart the hoards of undead with ease. Soon a swarm of green-white flames covered the courtyard, sending the already chaotic masses into absolute confusion. Piper rejoined her sisters.

"Move," ordered Piper.

Both Paige and Phoebe took large steps away from the meshwork of sharp icicles impeding their progress. Piper raised Excalibur high above her head. She swung it down with a yell of frustration, pain, and anger. The black ice vaporized.

"Follow me."

The spiral staircase spun them around in a steady, ascending circle. The low, ugly light within the walls swirled sickeningly, adding to the disorientation and motion sickness. Excalibur burned steadily with a warmth and light against the darkness. They slowed near the top of the staircase.

A very human voice screamed in pure anguish and pain. All three sisters quickened their pace again.

The stairs ended in a low-ceilinged hall lit by clear ice lanterns. The hallway was very short. Moonlight, cold and uninviting, filtered through the entrance. Snow stretched out beyond. The tower shook as someone yelled again. They stepped out onto the parapet.

It was enormous, far too large to naturally balance atop the spire. Snow drifted lazily across the icy ground. It came to settle in deeper piles near benches and backless seats. Here and there grew trees and shrubs made of pure clear ice. A frozen fountain silently occupied the focus of the parapet's garden. A modest trickle of water dribbled down the top of its icon, covering it in too many layers of ice to easily identify its original shape. Rose vines spread out from the fountain in a deliberate delicate pattern, all frozen.

Next to the fountain, prostrate and unmoving, lay a too-large wolf. Its white and tawny fur covered in frozen blood. Beside it, chained to a pomegranate tree, was Wyatt. He too was covered in blood. One of his legs was bent at a wrong angle at his knee, and his ruined jeans below that point were soaked to the point of blackness.

An ice sculpture of a thick, nearly dead tree held an almost utterly naked Chris, crucified upside-down to its boughs. Bonds of clear ice held him in place. They, also, served to magnify the blackened flesh below. Gangrenous darkness spread up and outward following veins.

Pyrrha was tied to the base of the same tree. Her clothes were shredded and burned in places. Her bright red hair lay in a matted mess covering her face. She shuddered in the cold. The screams issued from her.

Next to her stood a woman with almost the same deep red hair cut in a very business-like modern bob. She wore a pure white suit with a pencil skirt and very red and very high heels. It served to accentuate her shapely feminine curves. Her porcelain skin lacked any flaw or blemish. She faced the sisters and smiled coyly.

"I told Set you were more than a match for those abominations," announced Isis with controlled calm.

Set abruptly materialized beside her. "Now, sister, let's not bicker in front of guests."

Isis considered the sisters intently. Not a flicker of emotion touched her smile. Her eyes remained cold and calculating. "You are just in time to witness the end of the interrogations."

"Step away from my daughter," warned Paige, steely.

"She is all but spent. Broken beyond recognition. Death will be a mercy."

"The hell it will!" shouted Paige, fuming.

Isis ignored them and held out her hand over Pyrrha. A miniature sun formed in the space between her hand and the captured witch. It lit up the whole garden. Drops of molten heat fell on Pyrrha and burned through skin and flesh, charring bone. The red-haired witch shrieked in absolute, all-consuming agony.

Paige and Phoebe rushed forward, bellowing incomprehensibly, just voicing outrage and their murderous intent. Set twisted his left hand a quarter turn contemptuously. A wave of pure power rushed up and hurtled the two younger Charmed Ones into the air and out of sight.

Piper held Excalibur aloft and stepped onto the parapet proper. Set again waved his hand a bit more forcefully, glee in his shining eyes. Excalibur blazed brightly somehow displaying a whole array of colors and sucking all color from the world at once. Piper instinctively swiped the blade through the air marking an invisible 'x'. Set yelled in shock. He reached up and touched his cheek. Withdrawing his fingers, he stared down at his own blood.

"Impossible," he hissed; eye narrowed.

Piper squared her shoulders. She stood tall and proud, firmly planting her feet. "Be gone, creatures of shadow," she commanded.

A light pulsated from Excalibur and washed over Piper. It kicked up ice and snow ahead of it. Set crossed his arms over his chest and knelt on one knee in a mockery of a medieval knight. The light reached him. It drove him back, leaving a deep long gouge in the smooth icy ground. His eyes shone with an unnatural dark purple. His skin rippled and grayed. The ghostly form of his true form threatened to break through, a hellish canine or avian creature.

Isis unfurled two massive multi-colored wings. She shielded herself from the blast. She sneered and took two bounding steps toward Piper. A golden scepter formed in her hand. She swung it down at the elderly Charmed One. Piper caught the attack between the blade and guard of Excalibur. Isis twisted and cuffed Piper with a backward flap of her wings.

Dazed, Piper's grip of the famous sword slipped. Excalibur dropped to the floor. Its light faded, leaving everyone in the stark dim moonlight. Isis stalked toward the fallen Charmed One, a tigress about to make a kill. Piper fell back and scrambled searching wildly for Excalibur. Isis raised her specter to strike. Piper raised an arm over her face in a futile attempt to deflect the deadly blow.

"NO!" boomed a desperate commanding voice.

* * *

Anakin disregarded the oddly colored landscape and the disembodied voice. He hunched down with a grunt like an old man. Every joint in his body felt like it was stuffed with ground glass. His battle with Ddraig had taken a heavier toll than he had thought. A distant memory of Uriel warning him of using his new powers mocked him as he checked on the three teens. Relief flooded him; they were unconscious but otherwise unharmed.

He straightened up despite boisterous objection from his aching muscles. Deliberately he circled around studying the scenery and surroundings. Wintry soaring mountains stood off in the distance. A major weather event brewed along their peaks. At their base ancient pine trees and oak trees spread out, thinning about a mile from where he stood. Tall pumpkin-colored reeds marked the end of the woods and gave way to the purple grass eventually. The grass marked a clear path to the golden pyramid.

Nothing stirred. The whole valley was void of movement, but not life. Anakin could hear the buzz of insects. Songbird sang a cheerful melody echoed by more avian calls. Something barked with a ghostly quality; he recalled hearing a fox make a similar haunting sound. The valley smelled of freshly cut grass and morning jasmine. Still, a hint of something murkier hung in the still air.

Anakin blinked, and Titania, Mother of Summer, stood barely fifty paces from him. The purple grass at her bare feet flowered in bursts of periwinkle. Her green-grey eyes sparkled with a kindly smile. The dark green summer dress hugged her form beautifully. The flower crown was gone replaced by a feathery one. Her features were more elfin than before, more perfect.

She spoke without moving her mouth, her voice sweet and soft and homely. "Nephilim, I bid thee welcome."

Anakin inched forward, deliberately inserting himself between her and the teenagers. He inclined his head in a formal bow, being careful not to take his eyes off of the Power That Be. "How gracious of you, Queen of Summer."

A smile graced her beautiful face, lighting her up. "You are tense. I offer you welcome. There is nothing to fear."

He hid a grimace; his body screamed for relief, rest. "I mean no offense, but this has hardly been a relaxing day."

Titania strode forward, swaying sensually. A refreshing breeze drifted across the meadow. "Thou art in a garden of peace. None have been harmed on this soil since the age of chaos. Be at peace, warrior angel."

She stopped within an arm's reach. The air sputtered back into a still tranquillity. The sounds of life softened. Anakin continued to stare at her unblinkingly, eyes hard and untrusting. "Harm and peace are relative terms, your highness."

Titania tittered and arch her back in such a way that her ample bosom was on prominent display. "An accord then. Me and mine shall not harm you and your own for the course of our meeting in this valley of the Powers. What say you?"

"A tempting offer, but your and your own are not the only beings capable of harm," said Anakin evenly, forcing a gracious smile.

"My sister and her kind are yet in charge of the incursion upon the Garden. They shall not be of concern for a while yet. Come now, nephilim, I have offered my protection and word."

Titania reached out. Anakin slunk back. She froze in place; fingers still outstretched. A frown on her face, she studied his; curiosity written plainly in her swirling eyes.

"You suffer needlessly, proud youngling. The battle against my warrior left you with little. The angelic part of your being is depleted. Let me restore it lest it consume what little power you possess."

Anakin narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I'm just fine, thanks."

Laughing, Titania lowered her arm. Anger flashed briefly. "None have managed to best my warrior. I know the sacrifice it took, breaking of boundaries set in the very foundation of the universe. Thou art not fine. I congratulate you and offer thee due reward." She turned over her right hand, uncurled her fingers, and revealed an opalescent stone in her palm. "Speak his name. Fulfill my brother's oath."

Anakin stiffened; his eyes glued to the stone: the Well of Souls. His breath caught in his chest. Memories of his touch and his laugh played in his mind. His heart longed for him, for Lucien.

"I would not let you touch me. What makes you think I'd accept this?" he asked in a halting voice. Each word forced dutifully out of his mouth.

Titania beamed knowingly. Her eyes twinkled. "The twins were but a gamble, a trick. This is no trick and even less a gamble. A promise was made, a bargain struck. Those hold far more power for beings such as us, especially in a place such as this. Speak forth your will, make it so."

She released her grip on the Well. It drifted between them, pulsating in time with his heart. The shiny surface of the stone reflected his eyes back to him. They slowly changed from the blue and green to the slightly darker blue he remembered. They were the eyes like his father and brother. They lost their hardness and distance. They became human. A second set joined them, brown and alight with life and joy. A small sad smile tugged at his lips.

"A word. A name," whispered Titania insistently.

Anakin parted his lips. The name sat on the tip of his tongue. A single breath stood between him and his love. A kiss on his forehead from a previous life brought back a pleasure long lost in pain and sorrow. Still, his body remembered it perfectly along with the actions that followed. He groaned.

"What's the catch?" asked a quiet voice.

Anakin tore his eyes from the stone and the wonderful scene in its depths. Matt sat on the ground. He was looking pointedly at Titania. The others were stirring groggily as well.

The Queen waved her hand gracefully. "This is a fulfillment of a debt."

"Don't bullshit. I might not remember much about faeries, but I do remember there's always a catch. They don't do anything unless they get something in return."

The Well flashed, drawing his attention. Anakin balled his hands into fists and focused on his nephew, allowing his voice to anchor him in the here and now. The less his mind drifted into the past, the more the physical pain returned. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"The pain will only grow. Everything has its limits."

Someone—Matt—stepped nearer. He felt his arms wrapped around his shoulders, offering him support. His muscles burned from exhaustion. Every breath brought about a new stab of agony. He faded in and out. His knees hit the ground. Someone shouted. Silence followed.

"A word and all will be ecstasy," whispered a silky voice. Every nerve tingled in pleasure.

Lucien stood before him a little older than he remembered. There were one or two gray hairs amidst the curly dark brown. His chocolate eyes sparkled with laughter. His smile lit up the room. Sun-kissed skin begged to be kissed and explored. They could spend eons getting reacquainted.

Anakin forced his eyes opened. They shifted in color. One lightened and the other turned emerald. The pain ebbed slightly.

"No," he choked out.

"No?" asked Titania, anger creeping into her tone. "No!"

He shuddered. "I can't. The cost would be too great. He wouldn't want that."

The Well of Souls surface cracked. Titania let out a howl and slammed her foot into the ground. Shards of rock sprang out of the earth missing the teens and Anakin by inches. An aura of verdant and yellow flames enveloped The Queen of Summer, sucking the color out of the world. The grass and flowers at her feet withered in the heat.

Anakin forced Matt behind him, weakly. He glared down the Faerie Queen, knowing the hopelessness of the gesture.

"You, mortal, would deny a Queen her wish? You have the audacity to stand in the center of her kingdom and do anything less than grovel. I shall smite you, ape, so not even your atoms will remain."

A choking wind whipped around them. Dry scalding heat baked down. The withered vegetation blackened. Anakin shielded his eyes. Thunder clapped in the distance. Something trickled down his back, making his hairs stand on end. Lightning struck barely feet from where he stood.

"Calm the fuck down, Orifiel," snapped a woman in an absolute and unyielding tone.

The oppressive heat wave cooled slightly. Anakin's eyes darted to the place the lightning had obliterated the ground. In the center stood a twin to Titania, only in different hues. Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness, took the name seriously. She wore a black, skintight, and low-cut dress. Her skin was pale and her pointed nails tinged blue. Her short hair was darker than the blackest midnight sky. Her eyes were a cold steel. Icicles clung to long eyelashes. The only color to her was her raspberry red lips.

Titania raised a finger and pointed it directly at Anakin's heart. A wisp of deadly flame danced in its tip. "He dies."

Mab folded her arms across her barely contained cleavage. "The offer was given and declined. He offered no treachery or deceit. They all passed the trials."

She snapped her finger and Cat Sith appeared along with a pale but very alive Zachary.

"Return to the battlefield, my guardian," commanded Mab.

Cat Sith vanished without a word. Mab flicked a stray hair back into place and a whirlwind of snow and icy plowed over them. The flames around Titania extinguished. She let out a girly scream.

"Simiel!" she whined, brushing snow off her bare skin.

Mab smiled imperiously. "Overt but necessary. My warriors can only stave off the incursion for so long. Already his abominations march on my citadel. Go! Marshal your armies, sister. For once, we can act in true concert."

Titania glowered. "The nephilim laid my general to ruin."

"A fault of your own design and making. Hurry! I sense he gathers his essence and will. Soon the serpent will once again be amongst the Garden."

Titania did not vanish so much as she simply was no longer there. Not a whisper of power marked her passage. Anakin shivered, not even Uriel could perform such a feat.

Mab waved her hand and a picnic table condensed out of the air. Sandwiches and juice boxes plopped onto its surface a moment later. She stretched and lost the strict regal posture. "Not the feast you might find in the Halls of Valhalla, but I've always preferred the simplicity of a picnic. Eat. Drink. No doubt you will find yourselves quite famished."

She drifted over to Anakin and tapped him on the temple. It felt like ice spread through his veins.

"There is no replacement for a good night's rest, but that will tide you over."

Anakin shivered. "Th—th—than—thank—kkss."

Matt eyed the new faerie queen and opened his mouth.

Mab silenced him with a severe glare. Ice frosted over the blades of grass. "Be forewarned, young mortal, I have less tolerance for disrespect than my sister."

Gulping, Matt snapped his mouth shut. He did not move, however, and crossed his arms in a show of arrogance.

Mab dismissed him. Her steely eyes focused on Kenny. The pupils grew into cat-like slits. Her red lips thinned. "You brought an offspring of my brother's abomination. I should smite you where you stand, little half-life."

Anakin sidestepped back into her view, blocking her view of Kenny. "You would fail."

"Do not take my gift as a capitulation. The last time nephilim walked on the mortal world it was my sister and I who exterminated them. The only thing more abhorrent to the natural order than a half-demon is a half-angel. You still draw breath purely by my whim."

"You aren't too thrilled with Lucifer's release, that's the reason I'm still breathing," snapped Anakin, breathing heavily. His muscles and joint no longer felt terrible. The pain numbed by the cold.

Her eyes darkened to pitch black except for flecks of icy blue. Her pale skin glowed luminously. "Watch your tone."

"Hey! Guys, mind if we sit?" asked Zach wearily. The little color in his skin was quickly fading.

Anakin nodded once. The three teens hurried over to him, giving Mab the widest berth possible, and helped him to the picnic table. They dove into the food with unrestrained relish like only teenaged boys had. Anakin returned his gaze to Mab. She stood stone still watching the storm play out on the distant mountains.

"Why a pyramid?"

Mab sucked on her lower lip. "A symbol of power both I and my sister could agree upon. The Egyptians were also among the first humans with a sufficiently established culture and heritage to have been influenced by the Powers. They were a favorite of Lucifer."

The storm reached the forest. Trees creaked and groaned in the maelstrom. Lightning struck; thunder boomed. The very bottom of Mab's dress waved. She turned to fully face Anakin.

"Why did Uriel send you? Why did he set Lucifer's ire on this realm? Has he truly forgotten the danger?"

"This wasn't Uriel's decision."

The clouds above them blossomed with bolts of white electricity.

"You acted on your own!"

Mab raised her hand. Anakin threw out his own, calling up a stream of blue energy. It solidified into a quarter dome between him and Mab. Whatever she used to attack him struck the dome, splintering it. The sound of sound shattering drowned out the yells of the teens. Something solid and heavy pounded into his shoulder, sending him spinning. He landed in a sprawled mess on frost-covered flowers.

"YOU FOOL!"

Coughing, Anakin struggled back up onto his hands and knees. "We had no choice."

The temperature dropped drastically. Anakin choked breathing in, his body rebelling against the cold.

"You absolute imbecile! Have you any idea? The last—straight to us." Mab's fury tied up her tongue.

Anakin stumbled to his feet. "You have knowledge we seek."

The eye of the storm fell upon them. Everything stilled.

"Knowledge to destroy a Power. You've done it before," spat Mab.

"Those were lesser beings."

Mab laughed mirthlessly. "Lesser beings! Glyndwr was the Captain of the Guard before the Rebellion. Hellequin commanded the forces that drove your evolution. No Power was a lesser being."

"They were not the firstborn. They commanded legions and choirs but only the original seven stood in the primordial chaos. It is why Lucifer was caged. He destruction was too much. Now, now only four remain. The cage won't contain him. He must die."

Titania returned dressed in armor somewhere between a cliche Viking and Athena. "War is your domain, sister."

A jet of flame lit up the sky for a couple of seconds.

"What the hell was that?" asked Matt from the table.

"Ddraig," answered Titania.

Mab breathed out slowly. A cloud of tiny ice crystals coalesced before her. The crystals took on a kaleidoscope of hues. She studied them with her feline eyes. "We have time."

"Time for what?" hissed Titania, eyebrows raised.

Mab leveled her regal glare at her sister. "Time for them to understand?"

Richard spoke up. "Understand what?"

Both faerie queens ignored him. In unison, they lifted their right hands to chest height. Power crackled through the air setting hairs on end. A thin film developed, encircling them. The sound of the outside world dimmed to almost silence. Lights began to dance across the transparent airy medium. Blurry images moved, stopped, and vanished. A scene played out until it came into sharp focus.

Kenny gasped and choked on a mouthful of food. He stared wide-eyed at the scene, pointing excitedly. He cleared his throat; tears streaming down his cheeks. "That's it! That's what I saw."

Mab spoke. Her voice echoed in the chamber. "Before the formation of your world, magic was chaos. Our Father stood alone. He wished for something more. He wanted to create order out of the nothingness. So he formed seven great helpers. Together we gathered the magic into pockets, making room for creation. We each poured part of ourselves into the pockets of power and connected them across the universes."

As she spoke abstract shapes flashed across the screen. In a motion-sickness-inducing way, the pictures illustrated Mab's words.

"We created thousands upon thousands of these pockets and millions of channels for which the power to siphon across. Yet we were not careful. Our glorious vision to spread the power evenly across reality failed. We each gave into pride and mistrust. We hoarded some power. Seven wellsprings were formed."

Anakin frowned. "Wait…"

"Silence," commanded Titania.

Mab continued. "Our Father in his wisdom saw the flaw. He rectified the mistake as best he could. The universe was already taking shape. It could not be undone. So, he gathered as much power as he could and created two trees: one for light and one for darkness. He set these trees in the Garden he designed for his most beloved form of life. In so doing he bestowed to the universe access to this primordial energy."

"This granting of power to lesser beings angered Lucifer. He led a rebellion and stormed the Garden. Brute force failed him. Our Father loved the Garden so. He spent almost as much time there as in His Kingdom. So Lucifer resorted to stealthier means."

The abstract images focused again. A man stood naked leaning against a tree. Beside him stood a being Anakin vaguely recognized. She shifted between forms: one beautiful and the other hellish.

"Lilith," he breathed.

"Following instructions from Hellequin, he created the first demon, a seductress. She lured away the master gardener from his duties. Transforming himself into the guise of a great serpent, Lucifer tricked the woman into unleashing a bit of the chaos into the world.

The picture changed into that of a flaming sword.

"Our Father acted quickly. He banished humanity from the Garden and set up guardians to its entrance. He also charged us—the first six of his creation—to lock away our brother. Michael and Gabriel constructed a cage using power from the two trees. A great battle was fought across distant planets. Many civilizations were wiped out in the war. Entire solar systems were left barren. Finally, we cornered Lucifer on Earth. Using the first blade, Michael struck the decisive blow. Incapacitated, Lucifer surrendered and was locked away. He vowed to return and undo our Father's work."

Again the projected image morphed from an impressionist's depiction of the cage to a tranquil garden with seven figures along with layers upon layers of different worlds. All around the figures danced flashes of humanoid lights.

"The war showed our Father how deep and dangerous envy could be. He chose to remove his first creations from his beloved realm of mortality and choice. He withdrew all the Powers from this and every other plane, but six Powers acted against his will. They refused to return."

Six of the humanoid lights darkened and gained an oily sheen.

"Therefore, our Father instituted the Grand Design. Good and evil, life and chaos must forever be balanced. Six Powers That Be had to remain in the mortal worlds to balance the seven disobedient Powers. Over the millennia, three of the six who followed Lucifer returned to the fold."

Zach's brows furrowed. "But there were six 'good' Powers still…"

The screen went blank. Mab fell silent. Titania continued.

"By that time, Uriel had already immersed himself into the tasks of Death and our Father's avenging angel. He was for all intents and purposes neutral. My sister and I chose to leave Earth, but we could not return to our Father's kingdom. For even from the cage, Lucifer began making progress in fulfilling his prophecy. He searched for the seven wellsprings. He believes by destroying all seven he will destroy the balance of the Grand Design and the anchors of the two trees. This would unleash the chaos back into the universe."

"Michael and Gabriel designed a plan to frustrate Lucifer's plans. They shifted the placement of the wellsprings. Michael knew our brother well. He knew that simply shuffling the locations of the wellsprings would only delay Lucifer. Michael chose to instill the wellsprings into the bodies of individuals. Mortals would never be able to handle such an endowment of power, so he opted for the Powers to be the vessels. He knew the process might destroy him, so he left a final weapon for humanity to be wielded only in the greatest hour of need and by one true of heart. Having done so, he fashioned one wellspring into a physical form and implanted it into my sister. The process tired him greatly, but he pressed on. The second wellspring was placed in me. It cost him greatly, and he lost the ability to corporealize for a time. None of the rest of us had the knowledge to continue with the plan, so the five remaining wellsprings were left in place."

Titania and Mab lowered their hands and the bubble fell away. The wind and rain returned, battering the stunned group. Hair plastered to his head, Kenny cautiously raised his hand into the air. Mab acknowledged him, brushing off a layer of powdery snow from her bare shoulders.

"Can Lucifer destroy a wellspring?"

"With ease. They are not terribly difficult to break apart. All it takes is a spell, one already known to you." She locked eyes with Anakin.

"The one to destroy a suxen," he blurted out.

Steam rose off Titania's skin. "The wellsprings are little more than overcharged nexuses. Only once they are destroyed, they will not repair themselves."

Zach spoke softly, barely audible over the wind. "He's found them."

Both Queens turned their alien fury on Zach. Anakin clapped his hands together, gaining some of their attention.

"Don't," he warned.

Flames covered Titania's hands. "The insolence!"

Mab placed a restraining hand on her sister's shoulder. "Hold, sister. Hear him out."

Anakin remained still for a few seconds, waiting the queens out. He relaxed slightly. "How do you know this?"

"He had this map thing in his throne room. It was covered in lines, weird lines. He never spoke about it with me. He always dodged my questions. The map was of ley lines. It looked exactly like the one you, Chris, and Pyrrha were using."

Anakin sighed, sagging. "Damn it."

Mab rounded on him. "You knew!"

"Uriel suspected. He had me digging out places. He isn't known as the silent one for nothing."

"Then it is reasonable to assume he has destroyed the five. We are much closer to destruction than I feared," murmured Mab.

Richard stood up. "Hold it. It doesn't make sense. If he can destroy the things with a spell, why the hell did he try and turn Zach?"

"A final 'fuck you' to our Father," said Mab.

"It is his modus operandi. He did not need the woman to eat the forbidden fruit. He could have cut down the tree easily enough," scoffed Titania.

Richard shriveled under her dismissive tone. "Oh."

A great roar shook the ground beneath their feet.

"How do we kill him?" asked Anakin.

"Only a Power can destroy a Power."

"That's bullshit!" snapped Anakin. "I destroyed Glyndwr."

Titania smirked. "By igniting your very soul, and that only worked because he was at the ends of his power reserves. Aeglaeca was a nasty piece of work, but he was the least of the corrupted. Lucifer was a true Power."

Mab quieted her sister. "The death of a Power That Be is possible. The problem has never been our destruction. The problem is what are you willing to expend to bring about his death. Think back to the death of every Power That Be. They are always ugly and brutal. They can annihilate entire realms. Michael and Raphael managed to negate most of the damage, but it was there. Reality fractured at the places of their deaths. Brendan and Gabriel nearly obliterated Up There. Hellequin's death fueled the ritual to break open the cage."

A second roar reverberated around them. Shadows froze and gained mass. Cat Sith stepped into their midst. His guts, sick and rotten, trailed behind him, spilling from a series of claw marks across his belly.

"My Queen, hurry. He has beaten our warriors. To Sanctuary."

Something massive and reptilian crashed into the closest tree. A massive six headed lion charged out of the forest. It pounced on the struggling dragon and ripped its head from the rest of its monstrous body. Cat Sith yowled and shadows overtook the lion.

Mab blinked and armor akin to Titania's set replaced her clothes. She gained a brilliant blue and white aura. Titania's fiery aura reignited.

"You must leave. There is nothing you can do," ordered Mab gravely.

"But…" started Matt.

Anakin shook his head. "The gate. Cat Sith shut it."

"My citadel. It will return you to your world," shouted Mab over another thunderous roar.

Splinters in the shadow broke out.

"Hurry," yelled Mab.

She and Titania charged into the thinning shadows.

Anakin pulled the teens to their feet and orbed away as the shadows finally shattered.

* * *

The Compound felt eerily peaceful without any of the adults. Multiple emergencies had gained their attention and compelled them into action away from the safety of hallowed ground. The last to leave were the Charmed Ones. They had left to find Zach, Kenny, and Richard's group. They had reassured the teenagers the wards would keep them safe. Still, there was a tense unease in the air. The Charmed Ones had been the final persons with any real combat experience.

Danny perched on the large wooden veranda toying with the obsidian triquetra charm, which activated the lockdown on the cabin. Each of the teenagers had one. Once those wards were erected no one could enter or exit the cabin. Those wards were impenetrable. Only the key could bring the wards down. Anakin had the key.

He pocketed the smooth pendant. On the table beside him lay a gun loaded with special silver bullets smelted by Sophia. Somehow she knew the bullets would take down most things magical. The only problem with bullets was you had to hit the target with them. He was, unfortunately, a terrible shot. The door to the kitchen opened, and Andrew stepped out of the house. He gave his boyfriend an acknowledging nod.

"They're about to start a movie. Want to come watch?" asked Andrew in a timid and tired voice. Neither of them was getting much sleep.

Danny shook his head, sighing. "Someone needs to be on guard duty."

Andrew pulled a chair over to his right and plunked down. "It doesn't have to be you."

"Then who, Andy? Who?"

Andrew rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was an all too familiar argument for them. "The dozen of trained army personnel on patrol. Or, maybe, the four seraphs Uriel left behind."

Danny sat up straighter. "We can't rely on them, any of them. They aren't the Halliwells. Andy, we are alone and under siege by one of the scariest monsters to ever exist. There are little kids inside; little kids we need to protect. And the fucked up thing is we're not even capable of doing that. Not if it comes down to a fight, not really. The only chance we stand of surviving an attack at this point is not letting them catch us off guard."

He tapped the pocket with the stone inside. "We activate the wards. The moment even a hint of threat appears—we activate the wards."

Andrew stared at him for a long moment. The telltale lines of worry and lack of sleep deepened. He opened his mouth a few times to speak but fell silent each time. Eventually, he reached out and took Danny's hands in his own.

"They're coming back."

Danny angrily strangled back a sob. "And if they don't?"

Andrew shook his head firmly. "They're coming back, all of them. They're coming back, and they'll have a plan. They'll know how to kill Lucifer. They will save the day. Just—just like they've always done."

Danny squeezed his hands and closed his eyes. "I don't like this—this feeling. I've never been the powerless one, the one that needs help. I was the captain of the swim team. Everyone looked up to me. I was the top dog. Now, now, I'm—this. Useless. Powerless. Scared shitless."

Andrew narrowed his eyes. "You. Are. Not. Useless. People still look up to you. I look up to you. I'd be completely lost without you here, with me. You may not have magic, but you are still powerful. You are still needed."

The sun touched the tallest peak. Sunset descended on the valley. Danny and Andrew sat in silence. The leaves tussled in the wind gently. A night lark called out hauntingly. Suddenly every glass window shattered. Kids screamed. Danny jumped to his feet, fumbling with the gun. Andrew balled his hands into fists.

Covered in ichor, Anakin appeared at the steps to the porch. He looked terrible. With a shout, Danny fired, wide. Anakin growled a word. His eyes glowed beneath hooded lids. The gun melted out of Danny's hand. Cold metal dribbled to the floor at his feet.

"You could kill someone," snapped Anakin.

Danny, still staring at the useless gun, stuttered, "S—s—sorry."

Anakin nodded, satisfied. "Get me a towel. This stuff stinks."

Neither teen reacted. Wide-eyed, they remained rooted to the spot, barely breathing. The back door snapped open abruptly. Sophia poked her head out, along with a rifle. She had it aimed at Anakin's chest. One of her fingers rested on the trigger.

"Anakin!" she exclaimed. She lowered the rifle slightly. She looked around, emerging fully out from behind the doorway. "Where are the rest?"

Anakin wiped a large chunky piece of something off his face. "Coming—soon. There were complications."

"What happened?" asked Sophia. Rebecca and David joined her.

"In a moment. Towel, please." Anakin softened his hoarse voice.

David rushed back inside. He came back a moment later with a large fluffy purple towel and a few more of the younger kids. They all had worried faced. A few had recent tearstains wetting their cheeks. Sophia grabbed the towel and passed it down to Anakin. He still had not taken a step toward the porch.

He wiped his face clean. It was covered in cuts and bruises. His left eye was swollen shut. He tossed the towel aside; it caught fire. He ran his fingers through his messy hair.

Sophia gave him a pointed look. He returned it. She backed down.

"How long have we been gone?" he asked.

Andrew answered, "Nearly a month. Mrs. Halliwell, Love, and Mitchel left two weeks ago. Did they find you?"

Anakin closed his eyes. "A month—a month. It felt shorter than that. A week, maybe, two tops. That could be a good thing. It might buy us more time. Yes. Alright."

He snapped his fingers. Bodies appeared at his feet.

"Granny!"

"Zach!"

"Matt."

A dozen others cried out.

Anakin waved his hand for calm. "They're fine. Exhausted. Bruise. Battered, but fine. We can get them inside in a moment. We just need to let the residue drain away."

"Residue? What residue?" demanded Danny.

"From Faerie. It'll wreak havoc on the wards, and we can't afford for the wards to fail."

Peggy tried to wiggle past the older teenagers.

"No!" commanded Anakin. She stopped in her tracks; all color left her face. Gentler he continued, "No. I'll tell you when it'll be safe for you to touch them—us. It'll only be a few moment." He fixed his eyes on the older teens. "Can we get hold of Penelope or Henry?"

Sophia pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. "We can try. They're all off on missions, but Henry gets back most nights."

Anakin nodded, calculating moves. "It'd be nice if both of them were here. They did a real number on Wy, Sarah, and Chris. They're going to need healing."

"I thought you said they were all fine," accused Alexander over Peggy's head. He held her in a comforting hug.

Anakin tilted his head to one side, sizing up the boy. "None of them are about to die, yet."

"What happened?" asked Rebecca softly.

"Call Henry and Penny."

An hour passed. Night fell. Without the moon, the stars cast barely enough light to see. Henry Jr. and Penny arrived twenty minutes after Sophia called them. With the help of the older teens, everyone was moved into the house. Wyatt, Sarah, and Chris were healed. All of them were left to sleep and regain their strength. Patricia and Payton were called back to the Compound to help round up the younger kids and get them settled in for the night. Prue and Paisley returned just in time for the interrogation to begin.

Alexander, David, and Peggy were allowed to stay up under the condition they did not interrupt the adults. They sat on the couch closest to the dead fireplace. All three were clearly excited to be included.

Sophia and Rebecca nervously relaxed on the loveseat with their legs curled up beneath them. They kept casting glances to the staircase. They were torn between hearing the story firsthand and being there for their boyfriends. Andrew sat on the ground in front of the loveseat. He had his arms wrapped around his legs and his head resting on his knees. Danny sat to the side on a chair pulled in from the dining room.

The adults consisted of Prue, Paisley, Payton, Mitchel, Henry Jr., and Penelope. Penelope stood leaning against the doorframe. She was waiting for any sound from the dining room where Wyatt, Sarah, and Chris rested. Henry Jr. fed baby Ivan. He kept his eyes on Anakin. Patricia had left to put Parker back to bed. The interrogation would begin when she returned.

Anakin sat back in a comfortable chair he had conjured, resting his eyes. The cuts and bruises slowly healed themselves as he sat there. Gentle, calming energy pulsated off him. He felt Henry Jr.'s eyes on him but ignored his cousin. He would talk once everyone was ready. They needed to hear the whole tale, and he was not in the mood to repeat himself.

Patricia returned. He opened his eyes.

"She's still restless."

"That'll be her empathy coming in. She can sense Chris's discomfort," explained Anakin.

All eyes focused on him.

"She's too young for her powers to be coming in," argued Prue.

Anakin's eyes twinkled. "I'm telling you—she'll settle down once Chris is fully healed."

Paisley checked her watch. "The potion should counteract the last of the poison in half an hour or so."

"Good."

Prue crossed her arms and glared at her brother. "Shouldn't we fetch Serena? She'd want to be here."

Anakin shook his head. "No. She's needed where she is. The vote in the British parliament is important. Chris is in no danger. Parker is fine, so is Matt."

"Ok. Whatever," announced Prue, giving up.

Anakin paused for a long moment. "What do you want to know?"

"What happened?"

"Did you find the Queens?"

"Do you know how to kill Lucifer?"

"What did that to Wyatt and Sarah?"

"Why are they all out cold?"

Anakin let the questions run out. "How about I just start from the beginning?"

"No," said Henry Jr. seriously. He kept his eyes focused on Anakin.

Anakin turned to him, playing the part. He knew where this was going. He could sense it. "No?"

Henry Jr. repeated himself. "No. We don't want the doctored version. We don't want your version of events."

"What do you want?" asked Anakin.

"Show us."

A stunned silence fell on the room. A few of the teens were left with jaws agape.

Anakin quirked an eyebrow. He fought off a knowing smile. "Not everything is…" he gestured at the children.

Alexander spoke up. "We can take it."

David and Peggy nodded vigorously in agreement.

Anakin sighed. "It'll be like your own memories. The spell will make it so you experienced what I saw in as so far as I remember the events."

Acceptance and agreement grew in the room. They all nodded.

Henry Jr. stared at Anakin. "Do it."

Anakin shrugged. "So be it."

Light flashed.

* * *

 _Events played out with everyone standing off to one side. They watched the attack on the mountaintop. The illusions and diversions sent upon Anakin after entry to Faerie. The war of wills to free Zach from Lucifer reverberated in their minds. Everything flashed before them. Time slowed at points. The meeting of the Queens repeated, jumped, and flickered like an old home movie. Everything felt distant, studied, analyzed until they found themselves in a frozen garden._

" _NO!" screamed Anakin, eyes ablaze._

 _Isis hesitated a moment in her strike. A moment was enough. He threw a telekinetically enhanced punch at her perfect face. She hunched her shoulders, taking the majority of the blow on her right shoulder and deflecting the rest away from her face. Anakin's fist clipped the top of her head. She went spinning away, retreating. He took a step more, placing himself over his stunned and fallen mother._

" _Zach. Kenny. Get my mother into that shelter. Matt. Rick. Phoebe and Paige are about fifty feet that way," ordered the blond witch. He bent down to pick up the fallen Excalibur. The blade hummed dangerously. He withdrew his hand, eyeing the last place he saw Isis. "Zach, get Excalibur."_

 _Zach stepped up beside him. "My dad—mom…" his voice shook and failed him._

 _With hard eyes, Anakin looked over his shoulder at his nephew. "Now! Isis and Set will be back. We need to be gone by then."_

 _Not waiting to see if his orders were being followed, Anakin approached the first frozen tree. A snap of his fingers shattered Pyrrha's bindings. The beaten and unconscious woman collapsed under her unsupported weight. Still alert to any signs of an attack, he knelt down beside her and gingerly felt for a pulse with bated breath. He kept his fingers against her thin neck for a full minute before the first hint of a heartbeat pushed against their tips. He heaved out a shaky sigh of relief. He covered his mouth and closed his eyes, thinking._

 _They were exposed. An icy and glistening forest surrounded the courtyard. He could feel the anticipation pulsating from his enemies. They were waiting for an opening, for the moment he was most vulnerable. The recharge from Mab was not enough to allow him to battle and fight. Together, Isis and Set could take him. If he had his hands full, there would be no contest. After they finished him, they would make short work of his nephews and Kenny. The situation was hopeless, and they were running out of time._

" _Come, now, hiding and sulking about? I thought the great Isis was better than that," he called out._

 _A mocking titter of a laugh bounced around him. "I'm not just a pretty face."_

 _Anakin clicked his tongue. "And you're here with Set. I'm guessing he's doing all the heavy lifting?"_

 _Isis voice came from all around him. "Isn't that what your sex is for?"_

 _Anakin smirked. "Funny."_

 _He stood up and raised a hand level with his chest. He caught the fire ball and snuffed it out. His smile grew. Small purple, blue, and white sparks arced between the spaces of his fingers. They gathered to a point in the center of his palm. A bolt of lightning thinner than a human hair zapped out. Somewhere in the forest, Isis screamed in agony._

 _He bent down and gathered up Pyrrha in his arms. He kicked the tree hard, breaking the thick layer of ice. Chris dropped onto his waiting shoulders. He breathed out heavily and cemented his brother's body in place. He glanced in Wyatt and Sarah's direction._

" _I'll be back. I promise," he whispered._

 _He took off sprinting or at least the fastest he could run carrying two adults. He made it halfway to the shelter where the teens waited. He saw them yelling at him. He saw the panic in their eyes. Without skipping a footfall, he tossed Pyrrha and then Chris at the teens, aided by telekinesis. He threw himself into a baseball player's slide in a right angle from his current trajectory. A lance of dark purple flames vaporized the ice almost all the way to the shelter._

 _He rolled back onto his feet and chucked out a baker's dozen of energy balls with a single gesture. They crashed against an unseen shield before a grey-skinned Set. The Ennead spread out his arms, face stretched upward toward the stormy sky. The clouds darkened and swirled above them. A funnel cloud descended, whipping up the wind into a gale-force. He laughed richly._

" _You were supposed to be the challenge," dismissed Set._

 _The tornado accented by sparks of dark purple touched down near the fountain. Deep rivets in the black ice spread out across the ground. The whole citadel shook. Anakin stumbled, breath caught in his chest. He could not contend with that much power directly. He gathered his will for a final strike. He might buy the teens time._

" _FUCK YOU!"_

 _Anakin opened his eyes. Unseen force lashed out, caught the unprepared Set at the knees and flipped him head over tails away from the center of the garden. A second windstorm, smashed into the powering up dark tornado. The two forces of nature splattered across the garden uprooting tree trees and destroying ice benches. The fountain crashed onto its side. The ice fell away revealing a statue of seven humanoid figures up arms uplifted._

 _Zach ran out into the garden with Excalibur raised. A brilliant white light touched by bursts of inky black surrounded the blade. Kenny stood beside him, focused on the storm above. They reached Anakin._

" _My parents," said Zach in a firm voice._

 _Kenny's brow broke out in sweat. "Hurry. I can't negate his spell indefinitely."_

 _Anakin lead them over to the pomegranate tree. He touched the trunk and the tree shuddered and creaked. Icicles fell upon them as branches moved. The tree was trying to flee from Anakin's touch. He removed his hand. The wood beneath looked sickened, dying. He frowned._

" _They're not breathing."_

 _Anakin tore his eyes away from the trunk. His oldest brother looked like a corpse. Not a patch of skin was without a bruise. Both eyes were swollen shut. His whole face was barely recognizable. He was frozen to the touch. Even the blood from his broken leg was crystallized. Anakin gulped back a sob._

" _We'll save them," he said evenly as he could._

 _Zach touched his mother. She transformed back into her human form. She looked better than Wyatt, less battered. There was a massive cut on her right side. A deep puncture wound on her left side of her chest still wept blood. A couple fingers were burned to the bone. She had no fingernails left._

" _Can you carry her?" asked Anakin._

 _Zach nodded, biting down hard. Anakin imagined he could hear teeth cracking. Still, he kept quiet as the young man heaved his mother over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. Anakin nodded and pulled his brother free from the tree. It continued to try and retreat from him._

" _Kenny, you've got to cover us."_

 _The group dashed across open ground. They made back to the shelter as the tornado touched down again. Anakin slammed the door shut and drew out a marking on the wood with his finger. A rune etched itself into the door. All sound from the outside ceased. Their ears popped._

" _That buys us a moment." He carefully laid Wyatt down on the floor. He checked for a pulse and felt nothing. "How are the rest?"_

 _Piper answered. "Phoebe and Paige are unconscious. Chris is alive. So is Pyrrha."_

 _Anakin felt some relief at hearing his mother. "I'm too drained to heal. We need to get them all back to the Compound."_

" _Where are we?" asked Matt._

" _The heart of Mab's Kingdom. The original center of the Garden," answered Anakin, still assessing his brother's wounds._

" _And there's a gate back to our world here?" Matt continued to question him._

 _Anakin shrugged. "That's what she said. How'd you get here?"_

 _Piper wiped away a tear. "Paige. She tried to orb us to the last place she sensed Pyrrha. We knew something went wrong."_

" _They're not breathing," repeated Zach._

" _They're frozen. We've got time."_

 _Zach stood up and balled his hands into fists. "THEY'RE NOT BREATHING! DO SOMETHING!"_

" _Zach," gasped Piper._

 _Anakin sighed. "I can't. Healing, even one of them, it'll kill me, and it still might be enough to save them. We need to get back. Penelope and Henry will be able to heal them. They're frozen by Mab's Winter. Their souls are trapped. We will be able to save them. We just need to get back."_

" _How?" inquired Rick softly. "We don't even know where this portal is. We don't know what it looks like. We don't know how to activate it. Those two things are hunting us. Lucifer will be back soon. How the fuck are we going to make it out of this alive?"_

 _Something large and heavy crashed into the door. It bowed inward but held. Cracks marred the rune._

" _This is still Faerie. I can call up a portal especially if one is near, but it'll cost."_

" _Cost? Cost what?"_

 _Anakin looked at his mom and then each of the teens in turn. "I'm not strong enough. I'll have to use your power. It could kill you."_

" _Better than waiting here for them to do it," declared Rick._

 _Each teen agreed. All eyes fell on Piper._

" _There's no other way? No way to just use one of us?"_

 _Anakin shook his head. "No. It'll require the power from all of you."_

 _Piper stared at Wyatt then Sarah. "Ok."_

 _Anakin held out his hand. "Then let's do this."_

* * *

The memory cutoff. Everyone jerked back to consciousness. No one spoke. Baby Ivan started to fuss. Henry Jr. shushed him, patting him on his back. Without a word, the group disbanded, heading to bed until Anakin sat alone in the living room. He stood up and approached the fireplace. Bits of shadow dripped out of sight. He smirked.

"We're coming for you Lucifer." He whispered into the stillness. "We're coming, and we will kill you."

* * *

AN: What did you think? Was it worth the wait? I hope it was. Next chapter is going to be even crazier.


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